THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


; 


/o- 


"CHET, 


ALSO  OTHER  WRITINGS, 


BY 


ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  WALTER  JACK  DUNCAN. 


A  MEMORIAL  FROM  HIS  PARENTS. 


NEW   YORK. 
1899. 


DEDICATED 


To  His  CLASS  OF  '99, 


CENTRAL  HIGH  SCHOOL, 


PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 


Copyrighted  1899,  by  John  Jack. 


At  the  age  of  12. 


PREFACE, 


It  is  very  evident  from  the  fragmentary  matter  from  which  this  pater 
nal  tribute  to  a  loving  and  dutiful  son  is  compiled,  in  the  special  section 
wherein  only  a  portion  left  by  him  is  devoted,  that  both  the  youth's  mind 
and  ambition  tended  toward  literary  work,  his  evident  objective  step 
ping-stone  being  newspaper,  or  as  it  is  termed  by  some,  "journalistic" 
employment.    That  this  is  true  can  be  discerned  throughout.   He  had  laid 
out  a  unique  plan  of  his  own,  and  the  brief  sketches,  "Chats  with  My 
Friend  the  Brahmin,"  and  the  story  of  "Ohet  on  the  Expounder,"  demon 
strate,  in  addition  to  the  extraordinary  literary  merit  of  all  of  his  writings, 
the  style  and  school  of  discipline  he  had  set  for  himself  as  a  standard  and 
a  guide  ;  from  them  can  be  seen  that  he  was  no  ordinary,  humdrum,  harum- 
tn  scarum  boy,  but  that  he  was  the  happy  possessor  of  an  intellect  that  was 
£3  surprisingly  mature  for  one  of  his  age.    Method  seems  to  have  been  his 
^  guiding  star,  and  this  work  will  prove  of  great  value  in  many  directions, 
•5  but  in  one  it  will  be  priceless,  and  that  is  as  an  example  for  all  boys  of  his 
;'«£  age,  and  even  older  or  younger,  to  emulate  him  in  everything,  but  partic- 
•3  ularly  in  method. 

There  is  no  one  of  even  moderate  intelligence,  especially  those  who 
knew  him  and  those  who  peruse  these  pages,  who  can  help  but  say  or 
:*•  think  that  a  genius  was  lost  to  the  world  and  to  humanity  by  his  sad,  un- 
Ki  timely,  and  tragic  taking  off. 

g        One  great  regret  of  his  grief-stricken  parents  is  the  absence  of  many 
of  his  writings  from  the  present  compilation. 

Among  the  missing  manuscripts  are  two  volumes  of  "Chats  with  My 

.j  Friend  the  Brahmin,"  whose  contents  comprised  in  each  volume  more 

O   than  double  as  much  matter  as  that  contained  in  number  one,  herein  pub- 

^    lished.    Aside  from  the  literary  excellence  of  this  product,  as  exhibited  in 

>    volume  one,  the  missing  volumes  are  a  direct  loss  to  those  desirous  of 

1    acquiring  knowledge  of  that  great  Empire  of  India,  of  which,  compara- 

:    tively  speaking,  so  little  is  really  known.   His  father,  Mr.  John  Jack,  who 

i    has  been  one  of  the  great  travelers  of  the  globe,  and  who  had  read  them, 

<    says :  "That  they  were  marvelous  in  the  line  of  intelligence  about  the 

entire  history  of  India,  and  really  encompassed  more  in  their  scope  than 

anything  he  had  ever  read  about  that  still  unexplored  region  of  the  earth." 

This  he  expresses  with  a  becoming  modesty,  as  befitting  a  doting  pare  n 

when  speaking  of  his  loving  and  sacrificed  boy.  t, 

HUGH  COYLE,  Compiler. 

5 

449789      ' 


PREFACE. 


OHET,  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

CHAP.  I.  Chet,  the  Expected 9 

CHAP.  H.  Chet,  the  Arrived 20 

CHAP.  III.  At  the  Office  of  the  Daily  Expounder 33 

CHAP.  IV.  Chefs  Impression  of  Zodgeton 41 

CHAP.  V.  The  New  Reporter  on  the  Expounder 50 

CHAP .  VI .  Chet  in  His  Official  Capacity  at  the  Barbecue 57 

CHAP.  VII.  News  and  Events  of  the  Next  Day 71 


CHAT  WITH  MY  FRIEND  THE  BRAHMIN. 

INTRODUCTION 85 

CHAT  I.       Telang  Discourses  on  Conquerors 88 

CHAT  II.      Comparison  of  the  Art  of  India  and  that  of  the  Outer 

Civilized  World 94 

CHAT  IH 96 

CHAT  IV.  99 


Miscellaneous  Writings 102 

Memorial  Services  and  Newspaper  Tributes  to  the  Memory  of  Arthur 
Finnin  Jack  ..  .119 


Biographical 141 

Municipal  Responsibility  for  Accidents 152 

Historical 171 

6 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  aged  12  years 3 

Auntie  "Chly" — "The  Sun  was  showing  off  partickerly  mighty" 8 

Arrival  of  Ohet  at  his  Uncle's  Mansion 28 

Ohet  slipped  his  hand  into  his  trousers  pocket 31 

Off  they  went  together  and  overhauled  the  "fahm" 84 

Ohet  is  introduced  by  his  Uncle  to  Bosbyshell,  editor  of  the  Daily 

Expounder 86 

Chefs  Uncle  introduces  him  to  the  Sheriff 48 

The  Prize  Spitter 44 

"Ah !  Squire  Yorde,  how  are  we?" 48 

Then  continued  a  whispered,  disjointed  conversation 51 

Starting  for  the  "Cue" 58 

Georgia  is  the  State  for  "Cue" 61 

Ambitious  Principals  who  preached  themselves  hoarse  on  politics 68 

An  Alarm  of  Fire.    "Daily  Outcry"  office  in  flames 75 

Row  in  the  "Daily  Expounder"  office  between  staffs  of  the  rival  papers  77 

Purushotam  Rao  Telang 88 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  aged  9  months  148 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  aged  16  months 153 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  aged  11  years 157 

Oaptain  John  Jack 161 

Annie  Firmin  Jack  . .                                                                               .  167 


AUNTIE  "CHLY:"   "THK  SUN  WAS  8HOWIN1  OFF  PARTICKERLY  MIGHTY. 


CHAPTER  L 


"CHET,  THE  EXPECTED." 

It  was  a  blazing  hot  day,  sultry  and  intolerable  even  in  the  shade, 
that  was  the  usher  in  of  the  on-coming  summer  that  promised  to  be 
up  to  the  famed  and  Northern  feared  standard  of  torridity,  which 
the  South  of  a  few  years  past  had  held  up  to  the  "No'th'n"  folks  as  a 
standing  punishment  if  they  dared  to  invade  the  heart  of  their  South 
ern  territory  and  maintain  their  footing.  Their  dare  to  encroach 
upon  their  soil  was  snapped  up  by  the  "boys  in  blue,"  but  when  the 
soldiers  in  gray  were  forced  to  retreat  before  the  triumphant  invaders, 
the  encroachers  found  a  climate  as  well  as  a  people  to  battle  against, 
and  both  were  frightful  to  face. 

The  "No'th'ners"  suffered  the  full  penalty  of  their  intrusion,  when 
old  Sol  came  out  in  his  annual  glory,  and  by  the  time  the  summer 
season  was  nearly  over  the  "Yanks"  found  they  had  suffered  more 
by  Sol's  rays  than  they  had  by  "Reb"  bullets,  which,  as  a  rule  were 
not  scarce,  and  uncomfortably  sure,  from  the  fact  of  the  gunners' 
long  practical  experience  in  private,  as  well  as  military  life. 

The  war  of  "secesh"  was  over  now,  the  "reconstruction  period" 
had  commenced  vaporally  in  earnest,  but  in  every  way  commenced 
slowly.  The  Southerners  had  been  "licked"  in  substantial  strength, 
yet  their  omnipotent  sectional  ire  remained,  less  formidable,  but  a 
thousandfold  stronger  in  deep-rooted  bitterness.  All  the  South,  every 
man,  every  woman,  every  babe  had  suffered  for  and  with  the  "Lost 
Cause,"  but  they  went  down  with  it  conscious  of  their  earned  respect 
as  fighters,  or,  as  they  would  have  it,  "defenders." 

The  sun  was  out  to  stay  in  this  day  in  question,  and  he  was  "show- 
in'  off  pertickerly  mighty,"  as  Aunt  Chlydie  ("Chly"),  of  "Jedge  Hus 
ton's  plantation,"  expressed  herself.  She  knew,  for  she  was  the  aunty 
of  all  aunties,  of  all  the  plantations  around  ("for  the  Hustons"  was 
"reckoned"  one  of  the  finest  if  not  the  best  plantation  in  the  district, 
though  not  the  largest  or  most  valuable  of  all  by  any  means). 

The  Huston  plantation,  like  nearly  all  others,  was  old  and  in  ante 
bellum  times  was  the  home  or  "center"  of  several  others.  It  hadr 

9 


10  "CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

grown  by  accretion  from  a  moderate  size  strip  of  land  owned  by  the 
"fust  Huston,"  until  it  became  immense,  and  controlled,  or,  was  con 
nected  with  numerous  others  by  monetary  and  family  ties.  But  the 
war  broke  up  everything,  and  with  it  the  happiness  of  the  plantation, 
as  it  had  thousands  of  others.  The  family  contentment  in  "the  center" 
had  been  virtually  broken  up  before  the  war-cloud  burst,  but  the 
stern  Northern  invaders  completed  the  disruption  of  the  family,  and 
ruined  it  nearly  beyond  repair,  financially. 

Major  Owle,  who  had  owned  a  good  sized  plantation  adjoining  on 
the  North,  had  been  killed  at  Fair  Oaks,  and  with  him  fell  his  two 
sons  and  nephew.  Owle  was  a  brother-in-law  of  the  Hustons;  his 
wife  died  from  privations  and  a  broken  heart.  The  house  and  land 
had  been  swept  away  by  overpowering  debts,  contracted  in  aiding 
their  Confederacy,  whom  every  Southerner  had  looked  upon  as  a  per 
sonal  ward.  The  daughter  of  the  Owles  "Miss  Emily,"  a  delicate, 
quiet  girl,  was  now  under  the  personal  protection  of  her  uncle,  Judge 
Huston,  who  had  the  rare  distinction  of  being  a  judge  in  reality,  as 
well  as  in  characteristics  (which  latter  generally  brought  the  Southern 
er  his  title,  the  reason  there  was  never  a  dearth  of  "titled"  personages 
in  the  South.) 

Another  family  connection,  I  might  mention,  who,  like  the  Owles, 
had  "gone  down,"  were  the  Dabwellows,  who  owned  a  fair-sized  plan 
tation  on  the  South  of  the  Hustons. 

Old  Dabwellow  and  his  only  son  had  died  in  the  war.  Dabwellow 
senior  at  Antietam,  and  Dabwellow  junior  from  the  effect  of  hard 
ships  and  wounds  received  '"round  Richmond."  He  was  a  hearty, 
brave  young  fellow,  always  on  the  qui  vive,  always  for  the  fight,  and 
never  satisfied,  no  matter  how  "big  the  booming  was,"  as  he  phrased 
a  battle  in  a  letter  to  his  sponsor,  Judge  Huston.  He  fortunately  had 
no  mother  or  sisters  to  mourn  his  loss,  but  the  Hustons  grieved  in 
their  stead,  for  he  was  a  "bright  an'  loving  youngster"  the  Judge 
would  eternally  remark.  He  was  the  greatest  personal  loss  the  Hus 
tons  were  called  upon  to  suffer  in  the  course  of  strife,  and  the  death 
cast  a  terrible,  extra  shadow  on  their  many  bereavements. 

The  Bawne  plantation,  bounding  the  Huston's  on  the  west,  was 
owned  by  another  family  connection.     Several  of  the  Bawnes  had 
married  members  of  the   Huston  household.     Franklin   Bawne  was       / 
a  lieutenant-colonel  in  a  Georgia  regiment,  he  had  lost  his  life  in  a      V 
desperate  but  vain  charge  in  battle.    William  Bawne  gave  his  life  for 
the  cause,  and  his  brother  Jefferson  had  been  crippled  permanently 
in  a  raid;   he  died  a  year  and  a  half  after  the  conclusion  of  the  Civil 
Belligerency.    The  women  folks  and  two  young  Bawnes,  Thomas  and 
Edward,  now  "run  the  plantation"  under  the  counsel,  really  the  super- 


"CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  H 

vision,  of  Judge  Huston,  who  might  be  termed  a  "small  father  of 
his  country." 

There  are  any  number  of  Huston  connections  of  more  or  less  close 
ness,  but  more  widely  separated,  who  had  suffered,  likewise.  Among 
them,  the  Xaviers,  reduced  to  "white  trash"  by  the  deaths  of  the  most 
worthy  and  promising  heads  of  the  family,  and  the  swallowing  up 
of  their  estates;  of  course,  the  "white  trash"  remnants  are  not  consid 
ered  Xaviers  by  the  family  connections,  but  although  they  are  a 
worthless,  shiftless  lot,  they  bear  the  name  and  sport  the  fame  of  their 
noble  ancestors.  No  one  could  deny  them  the  right  to  do  this.  But  it 
was  galling  to  the  Hustons  to  have  under  their  very  noses  these  "peo 
ple"  who  depreciated  the  family  standing  and  motto  "Proud  and  Fair." 

I  will  not  go  into  a  dissertation  on  the  family  misfortunes,  the 
chronicling  of  which  could  evoke  no  special  interest.  Suffice  to  say, 
the  Huston  household  consisted  of  the  father,  Judge  Huston,  his  wife 
and  daughter,  Katherine,  and  his  ward  (but  more  properly  adopted 
daughter,  as  he  felt  a  thorough  parental  love  for  her)  Emily  Vanard 
Owle. 

To-day,  all  were  out  on  the  broad  piazza  of  the  old  mansion;  old 
it  was,  ragged  too,  and  a  veteran  of  the  past;  it  had  passed  through 
many  special  glories,  short-lived  and  long-lived.  To-day  it  would 
be  a  melancholy  artist,  who  would  be  exceedingly  captured  with  its 
beauty;  but  it  has  beauty,  and  perhaps  on  second  thought  our  senti 
mental  vein  would  place  us  liable  to  its  attractive  power,  but  then 
it  would  be  the  artistic  effect  of  the  climbing  jessamine  and  the  honey 
suckle  clinging  to  the  lattice  on  the  white  wooden  Doric  colonnades  of 
the  structure,  the  horse  chestnut  trees  shading  it,  the  old  garden  in 
the  foreground,  intersected  by  three  uneven,  and  two  of  them  undu 
lating  paths  that  led  down  to  the  old  grassy  lane,  it  in  turn  shaded  on 
the  Huston  side  by  a  number  of  pleasant  broad  leaved  Ailanthus  trees, 
which  were  faithful  protectors,  braving  steadfastly  wind,  storm  and  the 
most  penetrating  sun,  so  that  the  occasional  wayfarer,  on  a  day  like  this, 
might  remember  when  he  passed  the  "Judge's"  he  had  been  perfectly 
shielded  for  a  few  moments,  and  that  these  natural  friends  had  re 
freshed  and  reinvigorated  his  weltering  anatomy  by  their  intervention 
between  him  and  the  summer  "baker." 

At  a  spot  a  little  further  down  is  the  "junction"  where  the  turn 
pike  diverges  into  two  roads  the  Huston  grounds  are  fenced  in  in 
the  immediate  front,  by  a  neat  white-washed  fence  in  harmony  with 
the  white  edifice  in  the  background,  but  the  outlying  fencing  was  pro 
verbially  Southern,  picketless,  torn  down  and  semi-whitewashed;  but 
thi&only  added  quaintness  and  naturalness  (if  possible)  to  our  scene, 


12  "CHET,"   A  SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

provided  we  "take"  to  the  really  "played-out"  surroundings  in  this  senti 
mentally  poetic  view. 

The  unpoetic  mind,  however,  would  likely  fail  to  appreciate  the 
typical  scene,  because  of  its  lack  of  glaring  beauty,  or  because  of  the 
numbers  of  such  sights  to  be  seen  at  the  time,  the  latter  mostly  the 
cause,  for  nearly  all  are  at  first  entranced  body  and  soul. 

The  Judge,  who  was  seated  in  the  middle  of  the  piazza,  was  en 
sconced  in  a  huge  and  comfortable  arm  chair  (an  honored  heirloom  and 
relic  of  the  good  old  days)  squarely  facing  the  intermediate  and  largest 
of  the  three  ancient  paths  of  the  old  wooden  mansion.  His  view  of 
the  surrounding  country  was  simply  sublime.  He  could  see,  from  the 
rather  elevated  position  of  his  residence,  the  spires  of  the  town's 
staunch  and  haughtily  built  churches,  the  tower  of  the  Town  Hall, 
and,  in  brief,  obtained  a  half  bird's-eye  view  of  Zodgeton. 

The  Judge  was  not  a  fat  man  in  the  general  sense  of  the  term,  but 
we  must  confess  he  had  the  indication  of  a  corporation,  that  might 
grow,  by  a  sufficient  amount  of  idle  cultivation,  to  such  a  degree  as 
to  evoke  the  loud  admiration  of  the  obesity  admiring  Chinaman,  but 
this  is  speculation.  Although  the  Judge  was  portly,  his  cheery,  bronzed 
face  was  devoid  of  the  usual  flabbiness  of  stoutness  (mind  me,  I  have 
no  grudge  against  corpulence).  Take  the  Judge  all  in  all,  he  had 
picked  up  during  the  short  space  "since  the  wah,"  the  furrows  of 
those  past  exciting  times,  the  cares  of  weighty  dependencies  had, 
nevertheless,  left  their  stamp  on  his  high  broad  brow,  but  they,  like 
those  of  his  amiable  wife,  beside  him,  were  the  scars,  the  disfigure 
ments—no,  the  life-lasting  print  of  their  combined  anxiety  and  strug 
gle  for  the  honorable  sustenance  of  themselves  and  national  princi 
ples.  Both  husband  and  wife  had  been  reduced  in  physical  stamina 
by  the  trying  efforts  of  the  past,  but  both  kept  up,  the  wife  gayly 
and  the  husband  cheerily,  a~nd,  as  he  enthusiastically  vouchsafed,  he 
was  "hearty  as  a  buck  and  fresh  as  a  four-year-old."  He  had  a  happy, 
redundant  disposition,  not  by  any  means  boisterous,  but  always  quietly 
enjoying  himself  and  others,  as  they  themselves  were  pleased  by  his 
straightforward,  honest  way.  He  had  resolved  since  the  war,  to  throw 
off  his  cares  (an  effort  so  seldom  made  by  the  ruined  planters  during 
this  period),  and,  if  they  permitted  him,  after  his  efforts,  to  remain 
peaceful  and  contented.  So  far  he  had  been  eminently  successful, 
and  everyone  of  his  unhappy,  miserable  neighbors  and  friends,  mar 
veled  at  his  equanimity  of  joyful  temperament  under  the  appalling 
strains  of  work  he  went  through  in  a  determined  effort  to  retrieve 
his  fortunes,  his  laurels,  he  said,  rightly,  would  never  need  retrieving. 

Mending  a  fortune  is  often  harder  than  building  one,  so  the  Judge 
found  it.  He  had  accepted  a  Justice  of  the  Peaceship  as  much  for 


"CHET,"   A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  13 

the  good  of  his  much-attached  community  as  for  the  small  income  he 
derived  from  it.  He  had  been  offered  more  esteemed  and  larger? 
revenue-yielding  State  positions,  and  had  firmly  declined  them.  He 
wouldn't  dabble  in  politics — "it  was  against  his  peaceful  doctrine  of 
life."  Huston  was  an  ardent  scholar  in  his  young  days,  and  his  study 
of  law  was  his  standby,  for  his  practice  was  now  both  extended  and 
esteemed  (naturally,  consequently,  high-priced).  He  was  charitable, 
as  all  true  Southerners  are,  rich  or  poor,  but  he  also  believed  that 
charity  begins  at  home,  and  followed  this  branch  of  the  law  of  charity 
accordingly.  It  is  foundationally  declared  and  presumed,  that  good 
ness  of  character  is  evidenced  in  the  face,  no  matter  how  homely  the 
owner's  physiognomy  may  be  (a  good  person's  face  can  never  be  ugly, 
though  it  may  be  homely,  denote  the  distinction.  I  believe  in  this 
myself).  The  Judge's  broad  face  betokened  all  his  pure  brain  dictated, 
for  even  his  angled  nose  had  a  beaming  tip  that  matched  his  twink 
ling  gray  eyes,  that  snapped  slowly  under  bushy  auburn  eyebrows. 
He  was  dressed,  Southern  planter  fashion,  in  a  light  spotlessly  clean  linen 
suit,  and  beside  his  chair  lay  an  expensive  and  imposing  panama  hat. 
From  the  Judge's  mouth  was  issuing  a  wreath  of  tobacco  smoke,  which 
he  watched  intently  and  silently  curl  upwards  into  minor  clouds  as 
cending  to  join  the  mammoth  celestial  ones,  that  one  could  not  see  in 
the  clear  sky  above.  The  Judge  was  supremely  happy,  for  three 
months  ago,  he  had  succeeded  in  paying  off  the  last  debt  against  his 
family  name,  a  feat,  indeed,  for  it  had  been  accomplished  in  a  penni 
less  country  inhabited  by  a  people  in  consummate  apathy,  but  he  had 
forgotten  his  Southern  languor  in  his  desire  to  be  free  from  fiscal 
incumbrances,  and  had,  unconsciously,  emulated  energetically,  his 
Northern  brother  (for  whom,  in  spite  of  his  innate  benevolence  and 
usual  fairmindedness,  he  had  a  wholesome  dislike,  though  not  the  abom 
ination  then  prevalent  among  the  Southerners). 

The  Judge  was  quiet — he  generally  was — and,  as  the  day  was 
making  the  "thermometer  perspire,"  he  was  not  anxious  to  start  out 
of  his  silent  mood,  but  he  did.  His  splendid  meerschaum  contained  the 
choicest  of  choice  Southern  weed,  and. the  odor  of  the  narcotic  would 
make  the  most  resolute  smoker's  mouth  water,  but  his  wife  was  an 
abstainer,  who,  poor  woman,  as  she  stepped  lightly  from  her  chair 
to  arrange  a  "hunch"  of  the  Judge's  collar,  received  a  full-fledged 
whiff  of  the  "horrid  stuff,"  which  occasioned  a  severe  coughing  spell. 
Immediately  the  Judge  jumped  up,  threw  his  usually  carefully  handled 
pipe  on  the  flooring,  and  stepped  quickly  to  his  wife's  side,  tenderly 
seating  her  in  her  chair,  looking  in  her  face  anxiously  with  concern 
for  his  thoughtlessness;  she  gave  him  a  sweet  smile  and  softly  said  in 
a  somewhat  choked  voice,  "I'm  all  right,  dear." 


14  "CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

"Well,  I'm  mightily  careless,  not  to  know  yo'  were  back  of  me," 
he  said  with  a  look  of  relief.  The  two  girls,  Miss  Emily  and  auburn- 
haired  Katherine— "Miss  Reddy,"  as  her  girl  friends  called  her  in 
pique,  had  crowded  around  th^ir  mother,  as  quickly  and  as  anxiously 
as  the  Judge  had.  Miss  Katharine  now  said,  grievously,  "Paw,  yo're 
a  real  nuisance  with  that  nasty  old  pipe  that  yo'  take  such  a  pride  in. 
Yo'  know  ma's  lungs  aren't  strong,  why  don't  you  quit  smokin'?  Yo're 
old  tobacco  even  bothers  my  lungs,  which  aren't  at  all  delicate." 

"Well,  dearie,"  said  the  Judge,  smilingly,  "the  pipe's  a  solace  to  me 
an'  a  menace  to  you;  that's  the  reason  I'm  always  smoking,  as  you 
declare  I  am." 

The  Judge  chuckled,  Mrs.  Huston  smiled,  as  did  Miss  Emily;  and 
Miss  Katherine  stepped  over  to  her  father  and  slapped  him  on  the 
back,  saying,  "Yo're  too  smart,  Mr.  Judge." 

The  Judge  chuckled  more  than  ever,  sat  down  in  his  chair  slowly, 
and  the  girls  nestled  on  the  piazza  steps  in  front  of  him.  After  a 
brief  quiet,  the  thoughtful  Emily  asked  languidly,  "Uncle,  he's  comin' 
to-day,  ain't  he?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Judge,  rather  drawlingly,  "Chet  telegraphed  he'd 
arrive  to-day.  He  ought  to  be  here  in  two  hours,  if  the  slow  old  train 
don't  give  out  unusual  bad.  We'll  give  him  a  good  reception,  won't 
we,  eh?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Mrs.  Huston  warmly,  and  the  girls  strong 
ly  chorused  her.  "Aunty  Chly  promised  a  splendid  dinner,  and  we've 
fixed  his  room  up  homelike  for  him.  I  hope  he's  a  nice  young  fellow." 

The  Judge  took  a  few  whiffs,  slowly,  as  all  looked  askantly  at 
him.  "Well,"  he  deliberately  replied  to  this  half  question,  "he  writes 
good-heartedly.  and  he  ought  to  be,  for  his  mother  was  as  sweet- 
tempered  a  girl  as  ever  lived,  she  was  foolish,  though,  awfully  foolish! 
She  fell  in  love,"  his  voice  changed  into  a  slightly  harsher  key,  "a 
half  No'th'ner,  but  he,  poor  fellow,"  his  voice  went  down  softly,  "tried 
to  make  amends  for  his  breeding  an'  standing,  by  assimilating  with 
So'th'n  life,  but  he  didn't  bolt  his  original  ideas  to  gain  our  favor." 

"Was  he  a  rank  Yankee?"  asked  Katherine  quizzically  and  con 
temptuously. 

"No-o-o,"  replied  the  Judge,  "he  was  a  strange  mixture.  He  was 
born  and  early  reared  in  Maine,  and  when  a  youth,  traveled  West, 
where  he  lived  a  spell,  and  then  came  down  to  Tennessee,  where  he 
was  an  editor  an'  part  owner  of  a  paper  in  a  town  in  this  State." 

The  Judge  now  lapsed  into  silence  after  thus  unsatisfactorily  an 
swering  the  query. 

"But,  Paw.  Did  he  want  to  free  the  niggers,  was  he  a  black  abol 
itionist?' 


"CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  J5 

"Oh,  no!"  replied  the  pensive  father,  with  a  chuckling  shake  of  his 
head  and  shrug  of  his  shoulders.  "He  was,  as  I  said,  a  strange  mix 
ture.  More  So'th'n  than  No'th'n,  but  a  man  can't  get  along  here  unless 
he's  all  So'th'n.  He  weren't.  That's  the  reason  he  weren't  successful 
South,  an'  thought  it  better  to  try  the  border  for  his  luck."  Here 
again  the  Judge  relapsed  into  abstraction.  But  his  inquisitive  daugh 
ter  was  not  going  to  let  him  ponder  and  smoke  as  he  was  wont  to  do. 

"Well,  how  about  this  young  feller,  Ghet.  What  about  him,  paw?" 
queried  Miss  Katherine,  more  querulously. 

"Humph!"  re-spoke  the  Judge,  "yo're  interested  about  him,  are 
you?" 

"Yes,  I  reckon  I  be,  yo'  ain't  ever  told  much  about  him  an'  his 
folks,  and  have  only  occasionally  read  his  letters  from  Europe  to  us. 
I  never  thought  much  about  him,  until  yo'  wrote  from  Redlands,  that 
he  was  comin'  to  live  with  us,  and  as  you  were  away,  and  jest  got 
back  yesterday,  Emily  an'  I  ain't  had  a  chance  to  ask  yo'  any  questions 
about  him.  We've  seen  the  photographs  he  sent  yo'  every  few  months, 
an'  put  'em  in  the  album,  we've  seen  yo'  send  him  good  sized  sums  o' 
money,  and  once  or  twice  yo'  read  letters  to  him,  to  us;  but  that's  all, 
we  were  never  concerned  about  him,  'cause  he  was  so  far  away;  now 
that  he's  on  his  way  heah,  we  want  to  know  what  he's  been.  We 
never  knew  his  paw  was  a  low  down  Yank." 

Miss  Emily  quietly  affixed  her  undeniable  approval  to  the  declara 
tion  by  timidly  saying,  "That's  so,  uncle." 

The  Judge,  ruffled  a  little  that  the  .appellation,  "low  down  Yankee," 
should  be  applied  to  a  Huston  connection,  said  rather  sternly,  "I  told 
you,  Miss  Reddy  (the  soubriquet  so  much  detested  by  that  young  lady), 
that"— 

Here  the  Judge  was  interrupted  by  his  offending  daughter,  who 
said  with  snappy  spirit,  "Yo're  red  headed  yo'self.  I  ain't  ashamed 
o'  bein'  red-headed,  but  I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  called  Miss  Reddy 
when  no  one  nicknamed  yo'  Judge  Reddy." 

"My  dearie,"  said  the  Judge  calmly,  and  with  more  kindliness  of 
tone,  to  soothe  the  little  rebellious  temper  he  had  stirred  up,  "My 
dear,  if  yo'  were  not  so  ready  with  that  little  fire-spit  tongue  of  yours, 
perhaps  we'd  forget  the  hair  and  the  name." 

"There  yo'  go  with  your  tiring  tautological  jokes!"— pause,  and 
quickly  simmering  down.  "But  go  on  about  Chet  and  his'n,  Paw." 

"Well,  that's  sensible,  quite  a  change  of  mettle,  too,  ha!  ha!  ha!" 
laughed  the  Judge  good-humoredly,  "curiosity  is  your  special  weakness, 
Kathie,  anyone  could  see  that." 
-    After  a  short  plpe-puffling,  during  which  silence  reigned  supreme, 


16  "GHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

and  the  girls  watched  the  Judge  impatiently,  "His  Honor"  commenced 
again  in  his  free  and  easy  way. 

"W-well,  George  Wunnal,  Chefs  father,  though  born  in  New  Eng 
land,  was  a  fust  class  Democrat,  and  his  vote  an'  heart  were  always 
with  his  ballot,  he  believed  in  State's  rights  to  a  degree,  but  not  in 
slavery  in  all  its  forms,  although  he  considered  abolitionists  dead  crazy; 
with  these  views  he  was  nearly  a  half-and-halfer  with  his  most  in 
clined  (friends)  on  the  Southern  side,  his  twenty  years  life  in  the 
No'th  had  spoilt  him  for  a  man  who  would  have  sided  with  the  Con 
federacy,  when  it  was  formed,  as  he  thought  the  Union  proper,  an' 
didn't  see  the  wrong  of  it  in  the  least." 

"I  hope  his  son  Chefs  got  more  sense,"  broke  in  Miss  Katherine,  with 
emphasis. 

"Humph!  We'll  soon  see.  I  guess  he  has.  He's  got  enough  So'th'n 
blood  in  him,  naturally,  an'  it  ought  ter  carry  him  through,"  declared 
the  Judge,  vigorously. 

"How  was  it  this  Wunnal  came  to  marry  a  Huston,  uncle?"  asked 
the  much  silent  Miss  Emily,  demurely. 

"Yes,  how?"  interpolated  the  ever  talkative  "Miss  Reddy." 
"Oh,  by  chance,  yo'  may  rest  assured,"  responded  the  Judge.  "He 
was,  yo'  see,  a  young  editor  o'  a  paper  in  Tennessee,  where  he  met  my 
sister  Rebecca,  who,  because  Wunnal  was  rather  handsome,  but  not 
as  much  so  as  some  of  Beck's  old  beaus  here  in  Georgia,  and  because 
he  was  something  of  a  gallant,  she  had  to  fall  in  love  with  him.  She 
was  on  a  visit  to  a  spinster  aunt  in  Tennessee,  and  as  her  visit  was 
prolonged,  the  love  grew  lasting,  an'  when  it  was  'bout  time  to  return 
home  to  Georgia,  she  ran  off  with  this  young  newspaper  man  an' 
got  married.  If  I'd  been  there  she'd  never  have  done  it,"  affirmed 
the  Judge,  confidently.  Here  the  Judge  was  again  disposed  to  go 
back  into  suspended  animation,  but  the  girls  were  curious,  and  would 
have  none  of  it,  and,  after  a  painful  pause,  the  irrepressible  Miss 
Katherine  burst  out,  "Go  on,  Paw,  go  on." 

The  Judge,  who,  in  the  intervening  moments  had  fallen  into  a 
reverie  and  half  into  the  land  of  nod,  started  and  ejaculated,  "What?" 
"Go  on  with  the  story,  Paw,"  reiterated  his  daughter. 
"Do,  uncle,"  pleaded  Miss  Emily. 

"Eh?  All  right.  Since  I  started  in,  I  ought  to  finish  up,  I  reckon. 
Well,  my  aunt  who  had  a  fiery  temper,  like  my  father— her  brother- 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  Becky  after  her  error,  and  my  father, 
after  Aunt  Lympy  wrote  home  the  circumstances,  and  remarked  at 
length  that  Wunnal  was  impecunious  an'  a  speckled  No'th'ner,  fool 
ishly  seconded  her,  declaring  Becky  disinherited,  The  principal  cause 


"CHBT,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  17 

of  the  ensuing  estrangement  though,  was  obviously  the  fact  that  Haw- 
ley  Howard,  son  of  old  Hawley  Howard,  loved  Becky  and  they  were 
engaged.     The  Howards  were  rich  an'  influential,  an'  Hawley  really 
loved  Becky;    so  much  so,  that  he'd  never  married  up  to  th'  time  he 
was  killed  in  a  feud  with  th'  Wills.    I  was  a  young  man  at  the  time 
Becky  was  disowned,  an'  kicked  sturdily,  but  father's  word  was  law," 
said  the  Judge,  impressively  looking  at  the  oft  willful  Miss  Katherine, 
who  just  blandly  withstood  the  generally  awe-inspiring  look,  so  effect 
ive,  as  a  rule  in  the  Judge's  judicial  capacity.     "So,"  continued  the 
Judge,  "I  succumbed  to  the  inevitable  and  held  my  peace,  after  a 
fashion,  but,  occasionally  I  broke  silence  on  the  subject,  remonstrat 
ing  with  father  in  Becky's  behalf.     This  only  provoked  storm  after 
storm,  each  one  becoming  worse,  and,  as  my  endeavors  were  in  vain, 
I  shut  up,  although,  if  mother  had  been  alive,  my  pleadings  would 
undoubtedly   have  been   of   some   avail.     Becky   lived   in   Tennessee 
nine  years  with  her  husband,  and  then  went  with  him  to  Kansas, 
when  his  business  was  burnt  out.     With  them  they  took  their  two 
sons,  Chet  or  Chester,  named  after  father,  and  George,  named  after 
Wunnal  himself.    The  fact,  that  the  oldest  boy  was  christened  Chester 
Huston  Wunnal  was  clear  proof  that  the  poor  mother  loved  her  family 
dearly,  above  all,  her  father.     In  Kansas  times  were  most  troubled, 
but  Wunnal  was  a  gritty,  honorable  man  and  set  to  work  to  build  a 
fortune  for  the  wife  and  children  he  devotedly  loved.     He  had  proud 
blood  In  him,  and  kept  his  little  family  modestly,  and  held  his  head 
up  well;  he  was  respected,  too,  though  everyone  knew  his  half  No'th'n 
tendencies.    His  Kansas  paper  progressed  fairly  good,  an'  from  what 
I  have  gleaned  from  Chet's  written  information,  he  grew  to  be  happy 
an'  satisfied  with  his  rather  hard  lot.    Poor  Becky  was  perfectly  miser 
able,  an'  was  dyin'  hungry  to  see  her  folks  in  Georgia. 

"About  this  time  Tilly  died  o'  fever,  and  poor  Paw  was  terribly 
broken  'bout  it;  Aunt  Lyrnpy  an'  I  tried  to  console  him,  but  it  was 
no  use,  he  was  inconsolable.  Then  I  thought  of  a  sudden  it'd  be  a  ripe 
time  to  have  a  family  reunion,  an'  urged  Aunt  Lympy  to  help  me  get 
father's  consent  to  recall  Becky.  She  acceded  to  my  request,  when 
she  saw  Paw's  health  depended  on  it,  an'  with  little  talk  we  had  Paw 
as  anxious  to  see  Becky  as  she  must  have  been  to  see  him.  Paw  was 
too  ill  to  travel,  I  was  head  an'  heels  busy,  so  Aunt  Lympy  made  the 
trip  to  Kansas  alone,  to  bring  Becky  and  the  boys  home. 

"Aunt  Lympy  reached  Kansas,  saw  the  folks  an'  from  the  one  " 
letter  we  got  from  her,  was  havin'  a  jolly  time.    But  here  in  th'  midst 
of  our  expectation  the  crash  came.     Becky,  her  son  George  and  Aunt 
Lympy  were  out  ridln'  with  two  spirited  horses  pullin',  the  horses  got 


IS  "CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

scared  at  somethin'  an'  the  women  lost  control  of  them;  the  carriage 
went  over  an  embankment,  Becky  an'  George  were  instantly  killed 
an'  pooah  Aunt  Lympy  mortally  injured,  she  died  a  few  hours  after. 
By  luck  Chet  had  been  left  home  because  he  was  sick,  an'  so  he  was 
saved. 

"Paw,  when  he  got  the  news  (we  broke  it  with  caution,  and  mighty 
keerful,  too,)  sank  right  down  in  collapse,  apoplexy  carrying  him 
off  before  the  day  was  over. 

"Even  after  all  this,  I  wrote  on  to  Wunnal,  to  have  Chet  come  on 
an'  visit  us,  yo'  Kathie  was  a  little  mite  then.  Wunnal  said  he  would 
only  be  too  glad  to  send  Chet  on,  an'  he  wrote  a  real  condoling  and 
gentlemanly  letter  in  answer  to  my  missive. 

"A  little  over  three  months  after  this,  poor  Wunnal  was  shot  and 
killed  by  a  cowardly  feller,  whom  Wunnal  had  disparaged  in  his  paper 
for  doin'  some  underhand  trick.  Tho'  the  feller  assassinated  Wunnal 
by  takin'  him  unawares  at  night,  he  got  off  scott  free. 

"Poor  Chet,  who  was  but  eleven,  was  left  an  orphan.  I  sent  word 
on  to  have  him  come  on  to  me,  but  it  seems  Wunnal  had  a  brother, 
who  had  taken  care  of  Chet  when  he  made  a  visit  to  him,  an'  as  the 
youngster  liked  him,  an'  didn't  know  nothin'  about  me,  it  was  but 
natural  he  should  go  with  this  uncle,  Jabez,  who  lived  in  Missouri. 

"Chet  lived  with  his  uncle  an'  his  wife,  about  a  year  or  so,  in  the 
little  Missourian  town,  where  the  uncle  edited  an'  ran  a  paper.  Then, 
the  wife  of  Jabez  decided  to  make  a  trip  to  England  to  see  her  folks 
there,  she  took  Chet  along  with  her.  Just  'bout  when  she  was  ready 
to  come  back,  the  wah  broke  out  an'  as  she  was  in  delicate  health  an' 
happy  with  her  family,  Jabez  Wunnal  wrote  her  to  remain  where 
she  was,  an'  to  put  Chet  to  school.  She  did  so.  The  wah  went  on, 
an'  so  did  her  lung  trouble;  she  traveled  over  Europe  (for  her  husband 
was  pretty  well  fixed),  but  could  find  no  climate  that  would  positively 
agree  with  her,  consumption  slowly  but  surely  growing  on  her.  In 
the  early  part  of  '68  she  died;  her  husband,  Jabez,  had  died  a  year 
before,  and  the  means  he  had  made  had  been  nearly  swallowed  up  by 
the  costs  of  her  efforts  to  regain  health.  Chet  knew  of  me,  obtained 
my  address  from  a  friend  of  mine  in  England,  and  wrote  me  an  ac 
count  of  affairs,  asking  me  for  assistance.  I  sent  him  back  a  sum 
to  bridge  over  emergencies,  and  told  him  he  could  come  on  to  America. 
immediately  and  live  with  me,  or  else  could  remain  in  England  with 
an  allowance  from  me.  He  replied  that  he  would  prefer  to  finish  his 
classical  course  that  he  was  undergoing  in  England,  an'  then  come 
on,  so  I  acquiesced.  The  course  took  six  months  more  to  finish  up.  He 
has  graduated  now,  and  is  comin'  on  to  see  us;  to  be,  I  hope,  as  much 
my  son  as  my  nephew." 


"CHBT,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER.         19 

The  Judge  abruptly  subsided,  and  the  girls  quietly  whispered  to 
gether  for  some  time,  finally  Miss  Katherine's  voice  broke  out  again. 
"I  hope  he  is  not  an  English  fop,  or  a  No'th'n  boor,  Paw,"  said  she 
with  fervor. 

"Not  much,"  emphatically  burst  forth  the  Judge,  "I  know  not  what 
he  is,  but  he  cannot  be  a  milksop  or  a  boor.  His  Huston  blood  would 
preserve  him  from  both." 

"I  hope  so,"  remarked  Miss  Emily  moodily. 

"I  know  so,"  declared  the  Judge,  vociferously. 

"Yo're  only  guessin'  Paw,"  chipped  in  the  Judge's  daughter. 

"Oh,  no,  I'm  not!  I  can  read  his  character  both  in  his  photographs 
and  his  letters,"  denied  the  Judge. 

'But  may  be  he  has  an  amanuensis  who  sits  for  his  photos  and 
writes  his  letters  for  him,"  suggested  the  daughter  persistently  and 
annoyingly. 

"Now,  yo're  only  guessiu',  Miss  Calamity,"  cynically  said  the  Judge. 

"Well,  mabbe,"  was  the  injured  reply. 

Then  the  girls  recommenced  talking  girl  style  sotto  voce,  while  the 
Judge  continued  calmly  smoking. 

This  peacefulness  continued  some  little  time,  then  the  Judge  drew 
from  his  vest  pocket  his  massive  and  handsome  silver  watch. 

"It's  four  o'clock,"  he  remarked,  denoting  the  time,  "Cousin  Chet 
ought  to  arrive  in  an  hour.  I'll  go  up  stairs  an'  take  a  nap,  then  yo' 
wake  me  when  Job  has  the  carriage  around.  He'll  hev  it  heah  in 
three  quarters  of  an  hour."  Rising  slowly,  the  judge  handed  his  meer 
schaum  to  Miss  Emily,  who  had  reached  for  it,  and  then  crossed  to 
the  door,  stopping  to  give  his  wife  a  kiss  and  embrace.  As  he  started 
on  his  way  upstairs  through  the  hall  he  turned  and  said:  "Yo're 
pensive,  to-day.  Eh?" 

"Yes,  dear,  I'm  thinking  about  the  boy,"  replied  his  wife. 

"Don't  yo'  worry  about  him,"  said  the  Judge  reassuringly.  "He's 
all  right.  He's  a  Huston." 

And  he  went  slowly  upstairs,  leaving  his  wife  smiling  contentedly, 
and  the  girls  chattering,  as  usual. 


CHAPTER  IL 


"CHET,  THE  ARRIVAL." 

At  five  o'clock,  sharp,  the  Judge,  Mrs.  Huston,  the  girls  and  the 
negro  Job,  with  the  carriage  were  waiting  at  the  station  in  Zodgeton 
for  the  expected  traveler. 

As  usual,  the  slow-going  Southern  "express"  was  away  behind 
time,  but  the  station  agent  would  only  admit  it  was  slighly  slow,  twen 
ty-five  minutes  late.  Like  all  late  comers,  the  stuffy-looking  locomotive 
came  puffing  and  blowing  and  spouting  in,  as  if  she  had  accomplished 
wonders  to  get  there  any  time  at  all. 

Soon  as  this  snail  perambulator  had  come  to  a  standstill,  the  girls 
made  a  rush  for  the  cars.  The  Judge  less  hastily  followed  them.  (Mrs. 
Huston  remaining  in  the  carriage.) 

Among  the  first  out  was  the  looked-for  nephew  and  cousin.  He 
made  a  long  jump  from  the  steps,  shooting  well  out  on  the  platform. 

"There  he  is,"  cried  out  Miss  Katherine,  exuberantly,  espying  him, 
and  recognizing  him  by  his  mooted  likeness  to  his  photos.  "See  him, 
Paw.  Ain't  he  big,  I  declare." 

The  object  of  these  exclamations  looked  at  the  little  group,  dropped 
his  two  immense  valises  and  made  a  wild  rush  for  them,  giving  the 
Judge  a  bear-like  hug,  that  nearly  threw  him  off  his  pedal  extremities, 
but  was  held  up  by  the  strong  fellow.  Nevertheless,  the  Judge  was 
troubled  with  shortness  of  breath  for  some  minutes  afterwards.  Soon 
as  the  young  fellow  relaxed  his  vise  like  grip,  he  turned  and  jumped 
for  the  girls,  but  he  didn't  hug  them.  They  cordially  gave  him  their 
hands,  which  he  shook  heartily.  Even  critical  Miss  Katherine  wasn't 
disappointed  in  his  appearance,  in  spite  of  all  her  pessimistic  grumb 
lings  and  unpleasant  forebodings. 

He  was  a  beardless  youth  of  eighteen,  about  five  feet  ten  in 
height;  slim,  but  squarely  and  wirily  built;  his  complexion  was  medi 
um,  neither  light  nor  dark,  his  eyes  an  azure  blue,  his  features  plain, 
but  sharp,  his  mouth  large  and  clear  cut,  but  it,  and  his  chin,  having 
a  bull-dog  determined  look  that  was  only  softened  by  his  kindly  eyes. 
The  girls  were  satisfied,  but  not  captivated  with  him  at  all.  The  Judge 

20 


"CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  31 

was  supremely  satisfied  and  happy,  for  his  nephew  had  the  Huston 
angled  nose  and  their  expressive  eyes  and  intellectual  forehead,  but 
otherwise  that  fond  relative  could  discover  no  other  family  resem 
blance.  That  extra  tenacious  mouth  and  chin  was  quite  foreign,  but 
it  wasn't  such  a  bad  acquisition,  he  reasoned,  even  though  the  Huston 
chin  would  have  sufficed,  for  it  wasn't  weak  by  any  means. 

After  a  careful  scanning  of  his  nephew's  features,  and  an  attempt 
to  read  his  mind,  the  Judge  suddenly  remembered  where  he  was  and 
perceived  a  crowd  of  "trash"  collecting  around  his  party,  so  he  strode 
over  to  his  nephew,  grasped  the  muscular  left  arm  of  that  young  man 
and  marched  him  along  the  platform  towards  the  carriage,  the  girls 
falling  in  step  behind. 

"Well,  Chet,  how  did  you  like  your  trip?"  inquired  the  Judge,  as 
they  went  along. 

"Great,"  said  Chet  in  an  enthusiastic  tone.  "Of  course,  I  was  sea 
sick,  and  all  that  on  the  voyage  over,  you  know." 

"Don't  Chet,  use  that  detestable  'Yo'  know,  or  don't  yo'  know.' 
I  notice  yo'  ain't  much  o'  a  Britisher,  but  yo've  imbibed  some  of  th' 
mannerisms.  Yo'  must  be  American  to  th'  core  over  here.  No  Huston 
was  ever  a  Briton." 

"All  right,  nuncy,  but  y— urn— a  fellow  who  has  spent  over  eight 
years  on  the  British  Isles  must  have  some  characteristics  of  the  land, 
do-d-d—." 

"Well,  now  be  careful,  my  dear  fellow,  I  see  yo're  made  o'  Ameri 
can  material,  anyway,  an'  yo'  ain't  an  ape,  either." 

"No,  I  don't  think  you'll  find  me  a  cad.  I'm  not  that  sort  of  a 
chap  y-y-y " 

"Yes,  I  understand,"  said  the  Judge,  approvingly,  seeing  the  effort 
made  to  break  off  the  eternal  British  phrase,  "don't,  etc." 

"Here  yo'  are  at  last,"  came  the  smiling  greeting  from  Mrs.  Huston, 
seated  in  the  second  seat  of  the  family  carriage. 

"Yes,  here  we  are,  and  here's  Chet,"  thrusting  the  young  fellow 
forward  to  his  aunt,  who  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  gave  him 
a  sounding  kiss.  "What  do  yo'  think  of  him,  Libby?" 

"Why,  he's  a  fine  fellow,"  replied  Mrs.  Huston,  with  fervor,  as 
the  "new"  nephew  blushed  deeply  or  to  put  it  more  manly,  became  as 
red  as  a  lobster,  before  this  honest  flattery,  and  we  understand  that 
British  born  and  British  bred  men  dislike  flattery,  verily. 

"Get  on  the  front  seat,  Chet,"  commanded  the  Judge,  pleasantly. 

"Oh,  let  me  help  the  young  ladies  into  the  carriage  first,"  replied 
and  asked  the  nephew  politely. 

"Aha,  the  English  have  kept  up  your  etiquette.    Yo're  a  Huston  all 


22        "CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

right.  A  year  or  two  here  will  make  a  thorough  one  of  you,  and  there 
won't  be  much  Wunnal  left." 

Accidentally,  the  Judge  had  stepped  on  a  corn,  for  back  came  the 
speedy  and  spirited  reply,  "Uncle,  once  an  Englishman,  always  an 
Englishman,  the  Wunnal  axiom  is,  'once  a  Wunnal,  always  a  Wunnal,' 
also,"  inoffensively,  but  thus  firmly  he  spoke,  and  the  words  only  im 
pressed  the  Judge  the  more  and  made  him  think  "he's  a  Huston  for 
sure." 

At  this  point,  Job,  the  "especial"  Huston  servant,  a  herculean  young 
negro,  came  along,  perspiring  freely  under  the  load  of  the  two  loaded 
and  weighty  valises.  He  placed  them  carefully  in  the  carriage,  while 
Chet  and  the  Judge  were  busy  assisting  the  young  ladies  into  the 
rear  seat.  After  this  had  been  majorally  and  most  gallantly  done  by 
young  Wunnal,  helped  slightly  by  the  Judge,  Chet  tipped  his  hat  to 
the  girls,  who  smiled,  nodded  and  thanked  decorously,  in  recognition 
of  his  services,  and  he  helped  his  uncle  into  the  middle  seat  beside 
Mrs.  Houston,  after  which  he  jumped  on  the  front  seat,  and  Job,  who 
was  ready,  started  the  horses  off,  the  pack  of  foxhounds  running  with 
the  carriage,  barking  with  delight  to  be  on  the  road  again. 

Down  the  broad  avenue  of  Zodgeton  they  went  at  a  clipping  speed, 
flying  by  the  numerous  little  stores  (with  exceptions,  of  course,),  past 
the  Court  House,  Jail  and  Postoffice,  on  Court  House  Square,  past 
Hodkins  Hotel,  the  resort  of  the  place,  the  two  newspaper  buildings 
of  the  town,  and  other  local  places,  which  the  Judge  pointed  out  and 
described  to  the  attentive  Chet.  Of  course,  everyone  looked  curiously 
at  the  carriage  and  its  occupants,  and  Job,  the  driver  was  the  "proud 
est  nigger  on  earth." 

After  passing  out  through  the  suburbs  of  the  town,  they  struck 
the  old  turnpike,  increased  speed  and  the  two  blooded  horses  raced  for 
home  in  spite  of  the  heat,  for  the  sun  hadn't  altogether  died  out  yet. 

When  they  reached  "home,"  all  the  servants  were  out  in  "full 
dress,"  to  receive  the  newcomer  hospitably.  The  gates  to  the  drive  were 
opened  quickly  and  respectfully  by  Old  Uncle  Quinn,  an  aged  negro, 
the  oldest  of  the  Huston  servants,  and  a  bright  young  negro  boy. 
Both  bowed  their  heads  as  the  carriage  went  through  the  gateway, 
but  Chet  was  surprised  when  all  the  servants  collected  around  the 
household,  made  a  sort  of  East  Indian  salaam  to  them,  and  then. 
those  who  did  not  rush  eagerly  forward  to  assist  in  the  alighting  of  the 
party  or  the  unburdening  of  the  carriage  stood  deferentially  aside, 
quietly,  but  attentively  watching  every  movement  the  Hustons  made. 

"What  do  yo'  think  of  the  place,  Chet?"  asked  the  Judge,  with  a 
long  wave  of  his  arm  and  hand. 


ARRIVAL  OF  "CHBT"  AT  HIS  UNCLB'S  MANSION. 


24  "CHBT,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

"It's  immense,"  was  the  terse,  but  honest  rejoinder  of  the  newcom 
er,  who  seemed  nearly  stunned  with  happiness. 

"Yo'  must  see  th'  fahm.  It's  late,  but  after  meal  we'll  take  a  stroll, 
and  see  what  yo'  think  o'  everything  combined." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  taken  up  with  the  place,  my  mind  is  past  criticism 
already.  If  the  farm  is  but  a  passable  background  to  this  romantic, 
picturesque  scene,  I'll  vote  it  a  most  beautiful  spot."  This  burst  of 
enthusiasm  was  really  out  of  bounds,  out  of  proportion,  and  nearly 
out  of  sense.  Though  the  homestead  was  one  calculated  to  please  the 
eye  of  the  most  prosaic  person  for  its  ruins,  and  its  crudities  only 
enhanced  its  picturesque  value,  but  only  to  the  poetic  and  romantic 
mind  could  be  esteemed  a  "most  beautiful  spot,"  if  then.  Chet  was 
not  so  poetic  or  romantic  in  nature,  but  the  fact  that  after  knocking 
all  over  by  himself,  virtually,  as  his  aunt  was  a  wayfarer,  he  had  not 
seen  for  years,  not  even  after  her  death,  as  she  died  in  Italv,  and 
at  last  he  found  his  own  flesh  and  blood  full  of  sympathy  for  him, 
caused  him,  as  it  has  millions  before,  to  believe  the  home-trifles  gerus 
of  arts.  The  ugliest  negro  was  an  Apollo,  the  homeliest  negress  a 
Venus  de  Milo,  but,  fortunately,  they  did  not  know  of  the  enlarged 
appreciation  the  "young  massah"  had  for  them  all;  still  more  fortu 
nately,  the  delusion  was  but  temporary. 

Up  to  the  house  tripped  the  girls  merrily,  with  short,  girlish  laughs, 
the  Judge  and  Mrs.  Huston  leaning  on  the  arm  of  attentive  Chet, 
slowly  following  them. 

The  girls  had  been  long  sitting  on  the  piazza  by  the  time  the  "rest 
of  the  folks"  had  arrived. 

"Yo're  not  snails,  are  yo'?"  inquired  Miss  Katherine,  pertly. 

"No,  my  red-pated  Miss,"  came  from  her  "paw"  for  her  pertness. 

"I'm  glad  to  know  it,  Judge  Red  Carrots,"  spat  back  Miss  Katherine 
with  fire. 

"Kathie!"  came  reproachfully  from  the  mother. 

"Well,  he's  mean,  he  is!"  grievously  spoke  "Miss  Reddy,"  as  a 
part  explanation  of  her  rudeness  "in  company." 

The  Judge  laughed,  and  Chet,  appreciating  the  humor  of  this 
paternal  and  filial  cross-fire,  echoed  it,  mentally  recording  the  point 
that  he  must  ever  be  careful  not  to  cross  Miss  Katherine's  exuberant 
spirits,  or  he  would  wake  the  less  enjoyable  fiery  ones  she  was  mistress 
of.  But  his  records  later  must  have  got  mixed,  for  he  broke  his  mental 
resolve,  or  caution,  opened  his  mouth  at  inopportune  moments,  and 
this  same  "Miss  Reddy"  put  his  foot  in  it  for  him;  worst  of  all,  these 
practical  belligerent  lessons  were  to  prove  as  useless  as  this  and  future 
neutral  ones. 


"CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  35 

"Come  on  into  the  house  young  man,"  called  out  the  Judge,  as  he 
pufflly  climbed  the  piazza  steps,  at  the  same  time  trying  to  laugh  the 
matter  off. 

"All  right,"  rang  back  the  tones  of  Chet,  as  he  escorted  his  aunt 
aloug.  "We  are  coming." 

The  girls  grabbed  the  Judge  at  the  armpits,  and  hustled  him  up 
the  two  remaining  steps,  over  the  piazza,  and  headlong  into  the  hall 
of  the  house.  Chet  and  Mrs.  Huston  remaining  in  the  rear.  Through 
the  hall  they  went,  into  the  parlor,  Chet  seating  Mrs.  Huston  in  her 
cushioned  chair  (he  knew  it  at  sight,  so  much  like  his  other  aunt's, 
he  said).  The  girls  found  chairs,  and  Chet  seated  himself  on  a  staunch 
antique  sofa,  the  Judge,  coming  uuctiously  forward,  mopping  his  per 
spiring  forehead  with  a  large  bandana,  suddenly  snatched  Chefs  straw 
hat  with  his  free  hand,  and  comically  trotted  with  it  out  into  the 
hall,  giving  it  to  the  colored  servant  there.  All  laughed  at  the  Judge's 
antics,  and  Chet's  surprise  at  the  "lightening  snatch,  paw  made," 
as  Miss  Katherine  whispered  audibly  to  Miss  Emily,  the  "Silent," 
as  Chet  began  to  think  to  himself;  indeed,  if  she  had  not  spoken  in 
acknowledgement  of  her  introduction  to  him  at  the  station,  and  had" 
not  been  the  recipient  of  so  many  whispers  from  the  spirited  Miss  Kath 
erine,  he  would  have  adjudged  her  deaf  and  dumb  'ere  now;  her  laughs 
were  but  "titters,"  compared  with  Miss  Katherine's,  and  her  voice 
very  low. 

Said  the  Judge,  with  a  long  drawn  sigh  of  exertion,  "We're  heab 
in  full,  an'  in  plenty.  Eh?"  And  then  he  threw  himself  on  the  cata- 
cornered  lounge,  with  a  whalish  spout,  and  drew  a  rhinocerous  breath 
when  he  landed  on  it. 

"Don't  yo'  break  th'  lounge,  Judge  Elephant,"  teasingly  said  "Miss 
Reddy,"  the  bold. 

"All  right  Miss,"  good-naturedly  rejoined  the  Judge,  utterly  indis 
posed  to  quibble. 

Chet  now  began  to  survey  the  room  curiously,  the  girls  and  Mrs, 
Huston  watching  his  face  to  note  how  it  impressed  him. 

Facing  him  was  a  life-size  painting  of  his  grandfather,  whose  name 
sake  he  was.  The  painting  portrayed  an  elderly  man  of  nearly  six 
feet  In  height,  shoulders  slightly  bent,  with  a  smiling  face,  but  it  would 
take  no  connoisseur  of  art  to  decide  it  was  forced,  the  careworn  lines 
of  the  face  denoting  unobliterable  worry. 

After  scanning  the  face,  he  had  never  seen  before,  intently,  seriously 
and  critically  (he  had  been  told  as  soon  as  his  gaze  reached  it,  that 
it  was  his  mother's  father's  picture,  taken  three  years  before  his  grand- 
sire's  death),  he  lifted  his  eyes  with  a  slight  scarcely  apparent  sigh, 


26  "CHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN   NBWSrAPBR   REPORTER. 

and  slowly  re-riveted  on  a  much  smaller  picture  beside  it,  it  was  his 
mother's.  He  started  slightly  as  he  realized  this  (for  though  the  face 
was  younger,  it  was  the  one  he  loved  and  honored  so  well  when  he 
came  to  know  it  in  later  years).  He  had  looked  for  some  minutes  on 
the  noble  face  of  his  grandfather,  but  the  maternal  face  held  him 
spellbound  with  blended  admiration  and  veneration.  The  first  was 
noble,  but  full  of  woe  in  appearance,  the  other  was  beautiful  and  the 
look  full  of  maiden  virginity;  one  he  had  never  heard,  and  felt  noth 
ing  but  the  indirect  harshness  of  an  ever  irate  being,  who  had  cast 
off  one  of  his  most  precious  possessions  to  satisfy  his  pride  of  ancestry, 
and  to  demonstrate  to  all  fools  of  ancestry  that  he  had  a  firm,  unalter 
able  will;  the  other  was  a  reproduction  of  the  features  that  had  ever 
been  full  of  sympathy  in  his  mishaps,  and  joy  in  his  success,  it  ar 
tistically  pictured  the  sweet,  loving  lips  that  had  imprinted  a  thou 
sand  of  loving  and  inspiriting  kisses  on  the  child,  now  gazing  upon 
her  prototype.  The  thoughts  rushed  through  his  tired  brain,  one 
after  the  other,  and  at  last  he  turned  his  eyes  to  the  left  of  the  life- 
size  painting  of  his  grandfather;  there  a  fair-sized  portrait  met  his 
vision,  which  he  recognized,  after  thinking  and  straining  his  eyesight. 

"That  is  Aunt  Lympy's  picture,  isn't  it?"  he  asked,  confidently. 

"Yes,"  replied  Miss  Katherine,  her  mother  more  quietly  replying 
in  the  affirmative  at  the  same  time. 

Standing  up,  Chet  crossed  obliquely  across  the  oblong  room  to  a 
darkly  painted  set  of  four  pictures  in  gold  gilt  frames.  The  girls  sprang 
from  their  seats  and  followed  after  him,  tittering  as  they  did  so. 
Chet  immediately  knew  these.  The  first  to  the  left  was  that  of  the 
Judge,  the  second  Miss  Katherine,  the  third  Miss  Emily,  the  fourtli 
Mrs.  Huston.  They  had  been  recently  painted  and  all  of  the  plantation 
took  great  pride  in  them,  and,  of  course,  Chet  was  loud  in  his  approba 
tion,  although  the  general  execution  of  the  paintings  were  very  medi 
ocre.  But  love  is  blind  in  all  its  phases.  The  resemblance  was  strongly 
maintained,  and  Chet  was  in  a  mood  to  have  acceded  the  palm  to  the 
most  wretched  artist,  therefore,  the  artist  was  a  genius,  and  he  was 
but  another  favorable  juror  to  the  common  verdict. 

Chet  was  now  shown  the  bric-a-brac,  loose  pictures  and  other  orna 
ments  of  the  room,  all  of  which  had  a  little  biography,  which  the  girls 
knew  by  heart,  and  they  started  to  give  Chet  a  full  account  of  all 
their  adventures,  etc.,  but  in  the  midst  of  their  mingled,  chattered 
recitals,  the  din  was  broken  by  a  terrible  sneeze  from  the  sleeping 
Judge  Huston,  who  nearly  pitched  forward  head  foremost  between 
the  legs  of  his  nephew.  Chet  caught  him  dexterously,  and  skillfully 
held  him  as  the  twin  sneeze  belched  forth  with  equal  velocity,  never- 


"CHBT,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER.         27 

theless  the  Judge's  feet  made  an  involuntary  impact  against  the  wall, 
that  shook  the  house.  The  Judge  rose  up  with  the  able  assistance  of 
his  nephew,  amid  the  ejaculations,  remonstrances  and  joking  of  the 
girls,  who  first  exclaimed,  "Oh,  my!"  then,  "Don't  knock  the  house 
down,"  and  as  he  sleepily  arose  rubbing  his  eyes,  called  out  (or,  rather, 
shocking  Miss  Katherine  did),  "Careful,  Judge  Fatty,  careful." 

If  there  was  anything  the  Judge  detested,  it  was  a  super-abundance 
of  fat,  and  this  tantalizing  miss  struck  home  with  a  vengeance. 

"I  would  like  you  to  know,  Miss,  that  I  only  weigh  two  hundred  and 
twenty-seven  pounds,  and  I  weighed  last  Wednesday,"  said  the  Judge, 
quite  hurt.  "Am  I  fat,  Chet?"  he  asked  that  surprised  individual,  who 
dutifully  replied  with  quickness  and  sincerity: 

"Not  at  all,  sir.  Uncle  Jabez  would  have  trebled  your  weight, 
I  am  sure."  This  was  stretching  figures,  which  never  lie,  immensely, 
but  it  was  said  with  both  veracious,  polite  and  pacifying  intentions. 

"Now,"  said  the  Judge,  with  defiant  and  satisfied  feelings,  also, 
pleased  that  he  had  obtained  a  full-hearted  adherent  in  his  domestic 
contentions. 

"Oh,  Chet  only  says  that,"  pouted  Miss  Katherine,  displeased  that 
Chet  should  so  unwarrantably  have  proved  an  antagonistic  supporter. 
This  boded  ill  for  Chet,  too. 

"I  know  Chet  only  says  that,  but  remember,  Miss,  Chet  is  a  man 
of  his  word,  he  is  a  Huston,"  broadsided  back  the  Judge,  for  once 
effectually  silencing  the  batteries  of  the  little  agnostic. 

"Dinnah,"  quietly  announced  the  usual  household  Dinah,  who  had 
entered  silently,  as  all  colored  servants  of  well  regulated  plantations 
are  taught  from  childhood  to  do. 

"Ah,  ha,"  was  the  sole  ejaculated  reply  of  the  Judge,  who  smacked 
his  lips  and  made  a  hungry  face,  which  evoked  a  laugh  from  all. 

Dinner,  well  it  was  a  dinner— a  true  Southern  planter's  dinner.  Not 
ostentatious  or  fancy,  but  plain,  yet  excellent  in  quality  and  bountiful 
in  quantity.  Chicken  "yep,"  sweet  potatoes,  "yes,  sah,"  "corn,"  "Well, 
I  reckon,  honey."  I  allow  there  was,  and  everything  else  any  rational 
person  could  desire,  or  indeed,  enjoy. 

After  supper,  digestion,  of  course.  But  what  digestion!  We  all 
enjoy  choice  eating,  and  if  we  obey  hygiene,  will  soon  experience  the 
supreme  bliss  of  digestion.  The  stomach  slave  cannot  enjoy  the  peace, 
and  the  refreshment  of  it,  neither  does  the  worried  or  hurried  man 
who  rushes  into  anxiety  or  all-absorbing  labor,  but  the  healthy  man, 
who  can  afford  the  short  or  long  rest  after  his  repast  is  repaid  amply 
for  his  sacrifice  of  time,  not  sacrifice  or  loss — he  wins  it  back  in  the 
boon  of  health. 


38  "CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

Out  on  the  piazza  sat  the  quintette,  breathing  in  with  prolonged 
inspiration  the  cooled,  fragrant  and  balmy  air,  which  flushed  the 
cheeks  of  all. 

The  Judge  suddenly  (he  generally  did  things  suddenly)  patted  his 
head  with  his  hand  and  then  rushed  into  the  house  for  "seegars."  He 
got  them  and  brought  them  out,  a  box  of  them.  First  of  all,  he  of 
fered  them  to  Chet,  who  declined  them  gracefully,  much  to  the  aston 
ishment  of  his  uncle. 

"Don't  smoke!  Well,  well!"  ruefully  spoke  the  Judge,  disconsolate 
ly  gazing  upon  his  box  of  the  "finest  Cubans."  "Yo'  aren't  puttin' 
this  on  for  th'  occasion,  or  aren't  afraid  the  ladies  will  object  are  yo'?'' 
asked  the  Judge,  puzzledly. 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  the  nephew. 

"Humph!"  ejaculated  the  Judge,  who  considered  this  refusal  rather 
milk-soppy,  but  his  impressed  belief  in  his  nephew's  manliness,  de 
terred  him  from  thinking  Chet  namby-pamby. 

"Well,  some  one's  got  to  smoke,"  affirmed  the  Judge,  poking  the 
cigars  under  Miss  Katherine's  nose,  which  facial  member  she  hastily 
withdrew  from  the  odious  weed,  putting  her  perfumed  lace  handker 
chief  to  her  nose  to  overcome  the  smell. 

"It  would  be  a  good  dinner  spoilt,  if  it  was  without  an  after-smok 
ing,"  cheerily  remarked  the  Judge,  as  he  laid  the  box  of  cigars  near 
at  hand,  and  lighted  the  one  he  had  selected  preparatory  to  smoking. 

"It's  a  good  dinner  spoilt  to  have  an  old  nuisance  like  you  puffing 
smoke  like  a  locomotive  around  here,"  came  the  half-expected  word 
explosion  from  Miss  Katherine. 

'Tv'e  heard  that  before  from  yo',  Miss  Kathie,"  declared  the  Judge 
with  vigor. 

"Yep,"  was  the  solitary  nonchalant  remark  from  the  daughter. 
The  Judge  did  start  in  "puffing,"  having  learned  the  art  with  thorough 
ness,  the  clouds  that  he  emitted  from  his  mouth  and  nasal  promontory 
seemed  perfectly  under  his  control,  and  he  sent  them  where  he  would 
to  all  places  within  a  short  radius  from  him. 

The  "folks"  chatted  away  for  a  long  length  of  time,  about  Chet, 
of  course,  with  their  own  doings  and  surroundings  an  occasional  topic. 

Their  main  theme  of  conversation  was  Europe,  all  had  read,  and 
Chet  had  heard  considerable  about  it,  but  from  travel  only  Chet  knew 
a  little,  for  London,  Liverpool,  Southampton,  Sheffield,  and  a  few 
minor  places  he  had  visited,  and  but  for  that,  his  practical  knowledge 
of  Old  Albion  was  cramped.  Yet  he  knew  London  well,  for  though 
an  American  boy,  and  only  a  few  years  in  the  metropolis,  he  had  be 
come  quite  a  Londoner,  though  he  had  by  no  means  completely  assini- 


"CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  29 

ilated  with  English  ideas.  It  is  much  easier  for  an  Englishman  to 
become  an  American  than  for  an  American  an  Englishman,  but  the 
true  type  of  either  nation  is  inalienable. 

Chet  promised  the  girls  a  fund  of  European  trinkets,  which  he  had 
in  his  packed  "luggage."  The  Judge  was  promised  his  share,  as  was 
Mrs.  Huston,  for  he  had  quite  a  collection  of  foreign  curios  from 
England,  Germany,  France,  Italy,  nearly  everywhere,  mostly  perquis 
ites  he  had  received  through  his  tourist  aunt,  the  unfortunate  health- 
seeker. 

By  the  time  the  favorite  domestic,  Dinah,  had  brought  the  refresh 
ments,  it  was  quite  dark,  rather  chilly,  and  the  ladies  sought  wraps, 
while  the  Judge  fastened  up  his  magnificent  smoking  gown,  Chet 
also  donning  a  light,  but  breeze-protecting  coat. 

Their  chatting  continued  on  till  late,  when  finally  Mrs.  Huston 
agreeably  proposed  retiring  for  the  night,  but  the  Judge,  though  ac 
ceding,  suggested  that  he  would  desire  a  few  words  with  Chet,  hint 
ing  also  that  privacy  was  equally  wished  for,  his  wishes  were  com 
plied  with,  the  ladies  bidding  them  good-night. 

After  they  had  gone,  the  Judge  seriously  took  a  few  whiffs  of  his 
nearly  exhaused  fourteenth  (?)  cigar,  then  started  his  "confab"  with 
the  expectant  Chet. 

"Chet,  my  boy,  what  are  you  going  to  do  here?"  directly  propounded 
the  Judge. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Chet  answered  with  marked  deliberation: 

"Well,  Uncle,  my  father  was  a  journalist,  so  was  my  uncle,  and  so 
I  expect  I  will  try,  with  your  consent,  to  become  one.  With  this  end 
in  view,  I  have  been  studying,  have  learnt  shorthand,  with  practical 
efforts,  as  well  as  the  routine  school  course  of  it,  and  the  other  essen 
tial  adjuncts  of  journalism.  Though  I  have  much  to  learn,  I  feel 
prepared,  and  I  know  I  am  ready  to  try  to  rise  in  the  profession." 

"Oh,  ho!  A  man  of  the  press,  eh?  Well,  as  yo've  worked  with 
that  end  in  view,  I  don't  believe  yo'll  have  to  start  in  as  a  devil's 
printer,  but  yo'll  have  to  fight  at  it." 

"Yes,"  concurred  Chet. 

"Now,"  continued  the  Judge,  between  whiffs  of  his  cigar,  "Yo' 
have  written  to  me  all  along  that  yo'  hankered  after  journalism,  yo'r 
course  of  studies,  yo'  mailed  me,  made  me  cognizant  of  the  fact,  yo' 
were  pursuin'  the  needed  branches  of  the  life,  an'  so  I  took  it  for 
granted  yo'  were  in  for  it,  but  it  never  occurred  to  me  before  that 
I  hadn't  asked  yo'  right  up  an'  down  what  yo'  were  after,  so  I  decided 
to,  to-night  It  might  'a  been  the  eleventh  hour,  if  yo'  had  said  yo' 
wanted  to  be  somethin'  else,  but  as  I  wasn't  mistaken  yo'r  boat  is  all 


80  "CHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

right.  The  fact  is"— with  an  extra  long  interpolated  whiff— "I  have 
been  down  to  one  of  our  town  newspaper  offices  to  see  how  I  could 
place  yo',  it  never  occurred  to  me  how  foolish  it  was  not  to  know 
squarely  if  you  were  stuck  on  what  yo'  were  studyin'  for."  Another 
pause.  "Anyway,  I  went  down  to  the  office  of  the  Daily  Expounder, 
the  editor  of  which  I  know  better  than  that  of  the  other,  and  had 
a  long  talk  with  him.  He  said  that  at  a  moderate  salary  he  would 
be  willing  to  employ  a  bright  young  fellow,  prepared  for  his  work, 
an'  intimated,  as  I  already  knew,  that  one  of  his  staff  cared  too  much 
for  John  Barleycorn,  an'  that  he  would  like  to  fill  his  place.  I  din't 
go  over  to  th'  Outcry  office,  as  I  thought  I'd  let  things  develop  before 
tryin'  it.  We  won't  bother  about  newspaperisrn  for  a  couple  of  days, 
anyhow,  so  put  yo'r  mind  to  rest,"  unconcernedly  and  languidly  de 
clared  the  Judge. 

Chet  was  not  in  favor  of  this,  but  he  held  his  peace  in  deference 
to  his  uncle,  mentally  deciding  to  hurry  him  up,  and,  at  any  rate,  not 
let  the  put  off  couple  of  days  lapse  into  a  week  or  more,  though  it 
wasn't  in  accordance  with  precedent  for  a  new  arrival  at  the  Huston 
plantation  to  plunge  immediately  into  work,  but  Chet  saw  the  opening 
chance,  and  was  eager  to  grasp  the  opportunity. 

The  Judge  smoked  away  at  a  merry  pace,  and  not  for  some  time 
did  he  think  of  his  nephew  sitting  silently  beside  him. 

"My  boy,  I  reckon  you  are  sleepy,  eh?" 

'•Rather,"  replied  Chet  with  a  stifled  yawn. 

"Then  to  bed,  sir,"  commanded  the  Judge,  in  a  mock-authoritative 
tone,  "the  bed  is  yawning  for  you,  and  you  seem  yawning  for  the  bed." 

"All  right,  Uncle,"  responded  Chet,  with  forced  liveliness,  jumping 
up  with  sleepy  spryness,  "I'm  off." 

"Hoi,  on,"  cried  the  Judge.  "Bard!  Bard!  I  say!"  called  the 
Judge. 

"He's  comin'  sah,"  same  Dinah's  voice  from  within  the  house, 
and  a  moment  later  her  voice  rang  out  to  prod  on  the  wanted  Bard, 
if  he  should  be  lagging  in  his  speed. 

The  sound  of  rapid  and  heavy  footsteps  was  detectable,  gradually 
growing  more  pronounced  as  they  neared  their  destination.  A  minute 
more  a  dark,  lanky  form  loomed  up  in  the  hallway.  It  was  Bard. 

"Well,  Massah?"  inquired  the  negro,  in  a  low,  respectful  voice. 

"Tote  the  gen'leman's,  Marse  Chefs  valises  up  to  his  room,  right 
away,"  kindly,  but  firmly  commanded  the  Judge. 

"Yes,  sah,"  came  the  usual  respectful  reply. 

"Good  night,  Chet,"  said  the  Judge,  heartily  grasping  his  nephew's 
hand. 


'CHET  SLIPPEP  HIS  HAND  INTO  HIS  TROUSERS  POCKET," 


31 


82  "OHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

"Good-night,  Uncle,"  came  the  reply,  and  a  start  for  his  new  quar 
ters  was  made,  Bard  leading  the  way,  at  a  quick  gait. 

"Dis  be  yo'  room,  sah,"  said  the  negro,  as  he  reached  the  door 
of  the  domicile  and  turned  its  knob,  opening  the  entrance  to  a  wide, 
airy  room,  nicely  decorated. 

Chet  gazed  around  a  moment,  nodded  his  head  in  pleased  approval, 
slipped  his  hand  in  his  trousers  pocket,  drew  out  a  coin  and  tossed  it 
to  the  negro,  whose  face  lighted  up  with  joy  as  a  natural  consequent. 
He  then  lighted  the  lights. 

"Are  yo'  done  wid  me,  sah?"  asked  Bard  as  quickly  and  silently 
pocketing  the  coin  as  Chet  had  drawn  it  forth  from  his. 

"Yes,  thanks,"  replied  Chet. 

The  negro  quickly  turned,  disappeared  through  the  shadowed  door 
way,  into  the  hall  again.  A  minute  later  Chet  heard  the  Judge  give 
him  orders  for  the  morrow,  and  at  once  came  the  quiet  of  the  night. 

The  room  was  satisfactory  in  every  respect,  and  his  traps  were 
in  it  ready  at  hand.  So  Chet  was  soon  bestowed  in  bed  sound  asleep. 


CHAPTER  ffl. 


"AT  THE  OFFICE  OF  THE  DAILY  EXPOUNDER." 

Morning  dawned  as  all  mornings  have  to  do,  and  Chet  was  yet 
in  the  arms  of  Morpheus.  It  was  late  in  the  morning  before  the  young 
gentleman  was  up  and  in  fettle  for  the  day.  His  sleep  had  been  long 
and  refreshing,  and  he  was  now  ready  for  the  day's  events. 

Downstairs  he  found  all  up  and  about,  except  the  Judge,  who,  by- 
the-by,  he  did  not  expect  to  find,  for,  as  he  descended  the  stairs,  he 
could  hear  with  grating  distinctness,  the  snore  of  his  relative. 

Breakfast  was  nearly  ready,  when  Chet  reached  the  piazza,  and 
after  chatting  with  his  cousin  and  Miss  Emily,  they  marched  into  the 
dining  room. 

The  early  morning,  Chet  spent  by  himself,  reading  the  Zodgeton  pa 
pers,  the  Daily  Expounder  and  the  Citizen's  Outcry.  He  had  even 
the  curiosity  to  read  carefully  all  the  advertisements,  and  to  call  for 
a  tape  measure  and  measure  the  sheets. 

Miss  Katherine  had  informed  him  that  a  bitter  rivalry  existed  be 
tween  the  two  papers.  So  bitter,  that  if  a  body  subscribed  to  one  and 
not  the  other  also,  he  was  open  to  all  sorts  of  attacks  as  a  most  for 
midable  enemy,  so  the  Judge  had  taken  both  papers.  The  editorials 
of  the  two  papers  before  Chet,  fully  bore  out  this  statement,  and  the 
columns  all  through  were  full  of  blatant  agitation  against  personal 
and  sectional  foes. 

Chet  did  not  relish  the  thought  of  becoming  embroiled  in  this 
mucky  wordy  feud,  but  he  decided  to  let  destiny  work  out  its  way 
for  the  present,  a  Southern  principle  to  the  core,  showing  the  maternal 
blood  coursed  through  his  veins  omnipotently  withal. 

The  Judge  settled  Chefs  forenoon  solitude,  by  coming,  fresh  from 
the  breakfast  table,  where  he  had  been  damaging  food  generally. 

"Come  on  now,  an'  look  over  th'  fahm,"  emphatically  commanded 
the  Judge,  grabbing  Chefs  arm  and  pulling  him  out  of  his  chair  by  a 
spontaneous  burst  of  effort  and  Chefs  co-operative  movement  In  rising. 

Off  they  went  together,  and  overhauled  the  "fahm"  thoroughly, 
while  the  Judge  was  a  walking  cyclopedia,  chock  full  of  "fahm"  talk, 


34 


"CHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 


sending  forth,  like  a  wound  up  phonograph,  the  current  news  of  the 
crops. 

This  "doing  the  farm,"  as  Chet  phrased  it,  a  la  Anglaise,  occupied 
not  only  all  the  rest  of  the  morning  and  the  noon  hour,  but  kept  them 
out  until  some  time  after  one  o'clock,  thus  again  Aunt  Chly's  dinner 
came  in  for  another  disastrous  charge. 

I  might  mention  the  fact  that  Chet  had  memorized  the  names  of 
nearly  all  the  plantation  negroes,  and  could  recognize  many  of  them 


OFF  THEY  WENT  TOGETHER  AND  OVERHAULED  THE   "FAHM." 

at  sight.  A  fact  which  was  equally  pleasing  to  the  "niggers"  as  to 
himself. 

It  is  needless  to  record  the  visits,  rambles  and  varied  events  of  the 
following  "couple  of  days,"  leugthened  by  Chefs  obstinacy  to  remain 
indolent,  to  only  three.  On  the  fifth  day  since  his  arrival,  Chet  and 
the  Judge  decided  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Expounder  office  to  arrange 
matters.  . 

Well  groomed  and  full  of  ardor  the  pair  started  out,  the  Judge 
feeling  quite  boyish  as  he  remarked,  "Chet,  I'm  a  youngster  pro  tern, 
I  allow." 

The  "Expounder  Building"  (how  the  tongue  of  the  Zodgetonian 
dwelt  on  all  such  official  and  mighty  names)  was  a  rickety  brick  build 
ing,  two  stories  in  height,  its  numerous  and  mostly  broken  windows 
were  plastered  up  with  boards,  card  and  wooden— with  numerous  torn 
fragments  of  many  colored  posters  pasted  upon  them,  making  an  amaz 
ing  aggregation  of  bills, 


"CHET,"    A    SOUTHERN    NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  35 

The  only  window  that  boasted  a  complete  set  of  panes  was  one  to 
the  right  of  the  one-tenth  painted  arched  doorway,  on  the  surface  of 
its  panes  shone  forth  the  loudly  colored  sign: 

OFFICE    OF 
THE    DAILY    EXPOUNDER. 

Judge  Huston  led  the  way,  brushing  past  the  much  vandal-carved 
and  half  open  door,  through  the  dirty  little  hall  way  to  the  totally  unpaint- 
ed  door  that  led  into  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of  that  magnate,  the  editor. 
The  door  was  unceremoniously  flung  open  and  in  the  two  went.  The 
editor,  a  middle-sized  man  of  good  proportions,  guarded  by  a  fierce 
mustache,  looked  up  hurriedly,  and  Chet  thought  unnecessarily  ap 
prehensively  at  them.  Chet  was  unacquainted  with  the  by-laws  of 
Southern  newspaperism,  for  he  was  but  a  rollicking  boy,  when  with 
his  father  and  uncle. 

"Ah,  the  Judge,"  said  the  editor,  whose  contour  of  face  changed 
to  one  of  unctiousness  and  pleasure.  "Happy  to  see  yo'  Judge,"  he 
further  remarked,  rising  majestically,  inclining  his  frame,  and  extending 
his  hand  to  the  Judge,  who  briefly  smiled  and  hurriedly  gave  it  a 
deciduous  shake. 

"Sit  down,"  said  the  editor,  courteously  and  pleasantly,  pointing 
to  two  dilapidated  chairs,  devoid  of  backing,  nearly  rungless,  and 
whose  seats  were  half  through.  The  Judge  and  Chet  took  the  indicated 
"seats  of  honor." 

"How's  the  folks,"  came  the  usual,  matter  of  course,  phrase  opener, 
from  the  editor. 

"Very  well,  indeed;  how's  yourn."  Without  waiting  for  a  reply, 
the  Judge  banged  his  gold  headed  walnut  cane  on  the  dusty  paper- 
bestrewed  floor  and  jumped  from  his  chair,  excitedly. 

"Excuse  me,"  he  exclaimed,  apologetically,  both  to  the  editor  and 
Chet,  "This  young  gentleman,  Bosbyell,  is  my  nephew,  from  England. 
Chester  Huston  Wunnal.  Chet,  this  is  my  old-time  friend,  Mr.  Head 
way  Bosbyell,  editor  of  the  Zodgeton  Daily  Expounder,"  introduced 
the  Judge,  flaunting  in  all  of  the  title  heralded  on  the  title  page  of  the 
journal. 

"Extremely  glad  to  meet  yo',"  acknowledged  Mr.  Bosbyell,  with 
a  formal  shake  of  the  hand.  Chet,  making  the  customary  reply,  and, 
acting  on  the  cue,  all  re-seated  themselves,  the  editor,  in  so  doing, 
slightly  jarring  his  office  chair,  producing  a  squeak  similar  to  that 
of  a  fat  mouse  caught  in  a  trap. 

"Ah!  hem!  Ah!  hem!"  came  from  the  editor,  echoed  by  the  Judge, 
and  re-echoed  by  the  editor  himself,  again, 


"CHBT"   IS  INTKODUCED  BY  HISwUNCLE  TO    BOSB YELL,   EDITOR  OF  THE  DAILY 

EXPOUNDER. 


"CHBT,"    A    SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  87 

"Well,  how's  things?"  inquired  Judge  Huston,  starting  in  to  reel 
off  some  of  the  unnecessary  verbosity  of  the  preliminary  talk. 

"Fairly,"  replied  the  editor.     "How's  yourn?" 

"All  right,"  came  back  the  foreknown  answer.  Then  the  Judge 
bumped  his  chin  with  the  head  of  his  cane,  thrice  in  succession,  during 
a  short  meditation,  the  editor  thrusting  his  hands  into  his  capacious 
trousers  pockets,  and  pushing  his  legs  out  before  him,  at  the  same  time 
allowing  an  elongated  whistle  to  escape  him;  he  eyed  Chet  a  second, 
then  pulled  his  hands  out  of  his  pockets  and  gave  the  desk  by  his  side 
a  most  resounding  thump,  that  made  all  the  bound  and  loose  papers 
tremble  alike,  as  if  frightened  by  the  idle,  unthoughtful  mood  of  their 
master.  Some  loose  ones  on  the  top  of  the  varnish-needing  desk,  floated 
off  on  the  air  as  a  result  of  Bosbyell's  thump,  but  he  caught  them 
all  "on  the  fly,"  with  exception  of  two  which  Chet  sprung  forward  and 
captured. 

This  resonant  thump  put  the  Judge  on  a  "business  basis,"  and 
without  more  ado,  or  parleying,  he  commenced  on  the  subject  and 
object  of  his  errand. 

"Er-r-r-r,"  reverberated  the  long  drawn  r's  of  preparatory  thought. 
"I  reckon  yo'  know  th'  express  object  o'  my  mission  heah,  yo'  know  we 
talked  over  th'  matter  some  bit  ago." 

"Ye-r-r-r,"  drawled  out  the  competitive  drawl,  "I  recollect  our  talk." 

"Do  yo'  still  reckon  yo'  can  place  th'  boy?"  asked  the  Judge,  quietly, 
with  restrained  anxiousness  for  a  direct  reply. 

"P'raps,"  was  the  most  unsatisfactory  answer  delivered  in  the  most 
dubious  tone. 

"No,  but  fo'  sure,"  tenaciously  questioned  the  Judge,  holding  out  for 
a  positive  reply. 

"Well,  Judge,  we're  th'  best  o'  friends,  and  I  believe  yo'  word 
unimpeachable;  if  yo'  say  yo'  know  that  yo'r  nephew  understands 
th'  work  in  its  rudiments,  an'  has  th'  ability,  tact  an'  elementary 
knowledge  for  the  work,  I'll  make  him  a  reporter  on  our  staff  at  a 
reasonable  salary  in  no  time,  if  he  be  agreeable,  an'  yo',  too." 

"Done,"  ejaculated  the  Judge,  smacking  his  knee  soundly  with 
his  left  hand,  and  allowing  his  cane  to  slip  with  a  thud  from  its  rest 
ing  place  on  his  leg  to  the  floor.  "Chet  Wunnal  is  fit  and  most  capable, 
on  my  word,"  said  Judge  Huston,  when  in  truth  he  did  not  know  be 
yond  his  nephew's  word  and  his  commendable  school  reports  and  grad 
uation  certificate  (by  no  means  undeniable  proof,  for  actual  knowl 
edge  of  one's  capabilities  Is  the  only  sure  attestor  to  one's  worth), 
but  the  Judge  had,  in  his  brief  connection  with  his  nephew,  become 
to.believe  implicitly  In  him,  something  his  bump  of  caution  rarely  al 
lowed  him  to  do. 


88  "CHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

"That  clinches  the  whole  affair,  then,"  solemnly  affirmed  Bosbyell. 
Chet  was  dumbfounded  by  his  uncle's  confidence  in  him  after  their 
short  acquaintance. 

The  ensuing  conversation  was  an  animated  friendly  one,  in  which 
it  was  decided,  both  parties,  the  Judge  and  Bosbyell,  for  Chet  entrusted 
his  prospects  to  the  hands  of  his  wise  uncle,  agreeing  on  a  suitable 
salary  for  Chet  to  enter  upon  his  duties  and  responsibilities  as  a  re 
porter  on  the  Expounder. 

"Well,"  said  the  editor,  stretching  his  arms,  "I  expect  I'd  better 
show  yo'  about  the  buildin'.  It'll  interest  yo'  when  yo'  start  in  any 
how."  Acting  on  his  own  suggestion,  by  closing  and  locking  the  only 
open  drawer,  and  slightly  wheeling  himself  in  his  dismally  squeaky 
chair,  to  be  free  of  the  desk  in  arising,  he  started  for  the  hall,  followed 
by  the  Judge  and  Chet. 

Back  past  the  narrow  ill-kept  stairway  they  went,  reaching  a  door 
that  hung  disconsolately  on  one  hinge,  and  which  was  manifestly  more 
wretched  appearing  than  anything  they  bad  yet  seen  about  the  place, 
but  only  Chet  noticed  these  trifles(?). 

Bosbyell  slapped  the  door  open  with  a  most  weak  physical  effort 
(if  it  had  been  stronger,  Chet  doubted  not  that  the  said  door  would 
have  gone  to  pieces). 

This  long,  ill-lighted  and  murky  room,  occasioned  by  the  shutting 
out  of  the  sun,  was  most  uninteresting,  but  Chet  paid  strict  attention 
to  every  word  that  the  ready  tongue  of  Bosbyell  articulated.  The 
editor  went  into  explanations  of  different  things  around  the  "compos 
ing  room,"  as  much  for  the  edification  of  Judge  Huston,  who,  prior  to 
this  had  never  had  the  misfortune  to  visit  it,  as  for  the  benefit  of 
Chet.  The  Judge  cut  Bosbyell  short  and  asked  him  if  it  was  necessary 
for  the  reporter  to  assist  like  a  jack-of -all-trades  in  the  place,  to  which 
case  Bosbyell  replied  positively  in  the  negative,  liiuch  to  the  satisfac 
tion  of  the  Judge,  who  was  disgusted  with  the  ill-kempt,  tobacco- 
chewing  individuals  who  were  lazily  hunting  and  setting  type  before 
him. 

Bosbyell  now  proposed  a  trip  upstairs,  so  upstairs  they  went,  on 
a  flight  of  stairs  that  were  slimy  with  dirt  and  tobacco  juice,  pro 
tected  by  a  wrecked  balustrade,  but  they  reached  the  top  after  exercis 
ing  great  caution  and  emulating  their  nimble  and  sure-footed  guide. 

The  second  floor  was  a  degree  better  than  that  below,  though 
the  windows,  outstripped  those  below  in  respect  to  stuffing  and  patch 
ing,  and  the  printers  vied  with  the  compositors  in  laziness  and  filthi- 
ness,  but  the  pungent  odor  of  tobacco  juice  was  not  to  be  smelt, 
and  the  nostrils  appreciated  the  lack  of  the  malodorous  element.  This 


"CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER.        39 

want  of  disagreeableuess  was  not  because  the  printers  were  not  chew- 
ers,  like  the  compositors,  but  because  tobacco  in  any  form  was  pro 
hibited  on  account  of  the  abundance  and  close  proximity  of  paper, 
and  as  Bosbyell  was  a  strict,  stern  man,  he  enforced  the  rule  on  the 
largely  printed  and  prominently  displayed  sign,  "Tobacco  in  no  form 
to  be  used,"  and  no  one  dared  to  ignore  it  in  his  absence,  either. 

The  press,  a  typical  country  newspaper  mechanism,  was  slowly 
at  work  doing  the  equally  lazy  bidding  of  its  workers.  Chet  was  pre 
sented  with  one  of  the  half -printed  papers,  and  comments  were  made 
by  the  trio.  Chet  mostly  answering  poignant  interrogations  of  the 
keen  editor.  The  cross-examination  pleased  Bosbyell  beyond  measure, 
as  he  gave  him  a  chance  to  evince  his  knowledge  of  journalism,  in  its 
numerous  branches,  to  both  Judge  Huston  and  his  nephew,  the  pros 
pective  reporter. 

After  wandering  about  the  room,  that  took  up  the  entire  floor,  and 
criticising  the  methods  in  vogue,  and  the  bulky  contents  of  the  place, 
mostly  paper  bales,  they  ended  their  criticisms  which  lauded  the  place 
(the  editor  criticised  and  consequently  lauded,  also),  and  started  for 
the  stairway.  On  the  ground  floor,  again,  they  bid  the  editor  good-bye 
at  his  office  door,  and  stepped  out  into  the  sidewalk  again. 

"What  do  yo'  think  of  the  Expounder,  Chet?"  superciliously  in 
quired  the  Judge. 

"The  editor  seems  a  good  friend  of  yours,  and  a  good  sort  of  a 
man,  but  the  surroundings,  or,  rather,  the  interior  of  that  place  defy 
description.  Thank  goodness,  my  work  will  be  out  of  it  more  than  in 
it,  and  you  can  wager  that  I'll  try  to  fix  that  office  up  if  I'm  connected 
there." 

"Yo're  right,  Chet,  Bosbyell  is  a  fine  fellow,  but  his  place  needs 
renovating  badly,  but  yo'  must  remember  he  is  not  married  nor  has 
any  home  family  life,  to  bring  him  into  routine  of  orderliness.  He'll 
follow  yo'r  methods  if  yo'  but  favorably  impress  him  with  them, 
but  I  reckon  yo'll  find  him  as  obstinate  as  a  mule,  if  yo'  don't  handle 
him  right.  Let  him  see  yo'r  reason,  and,  if  it's  substantial,  he'll  either 
follow  it  with  yo'  or  let  yo'  manage  it  yo'r  own  way  alone." 

"I'll  try  to  win  him  over  to  radical  changes,  if  it's  in  my  power, 

you  kn ,"  and  here  Chet  broke  with  an  effort  this  phrase  that  at 

the  wish  of  his  uncle  he  was  trying  to  discard. 

"The  most  remarkable  fact  appears  to  me  that  he  has  no  uncleanli- 
ness  to  mar  his  personality,  but  yet  is  content  to  labor  amid  that  actual 
and  unnecessary  squalor,"  continued  Chet. 

"Yes.  Well,  you  should  understand  that  he  is  assisted,  after  a 
fashion,  by  those  dirty,  lazy  scamps,  that  we  saw  lolling  at  work 


40  "CHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

there,  and  he,  because  he  has  no  family  to  keep  him  above,  has  de 
scended  to  their  level  in  what  a  New  England  Yankee  would  call 
shlftlessness.  And  it  more  than  dirtiness  on  his  part  has  caused 
that  accumulation  you  just  saw." 

"I  guess  you're  right,  Uncle,  and  I'll  try  all  the  harder  to  convert 
him  to  some  cleanly  radicalism,"  vouchsafed  the  nephew,  and  both 
Joined  in,  laughing  as  they  continued  up  the  street,  into  the  little 
"heart"  of  Zodgeton. 


CHAPTER  IV, 


"CHET'S  IMPRESSION  OF  ZODGETON." 

Up  the  broad  and  main  thoroughfare  they  walked  at  a  goodly  pace. 
The  lounging  "white  trash"  of  the  town,  bestirring  themselves  from 
their  reclining  and  collapsed  appearing  positions,  on  barrels,  boxes, 
etc.,  to  incline  their  heads  and  semi-ejaculate  in  a  mournful  greeting 
to  the  Judge:  "Howdy,  Judge,"  to  which  they  sometimes  received 
a  stiff  and  haughty  bend  of  the  Judge's  austere  head  (he  never  was 
thus  except  in  the  presence  of  these  disdained  inferiors;  the  negroes 
he  treated  incalculably  better). 

The  Judge's  gorge  always  rose  at  the  sight  of  these  disgraceful 
Zodgetonians,  whose  only  labor  of  love  was  the  munching,  "chawin'," 
and  liquidating  of  tobacco. 

As  they  hurried  along,  they  passed  the  "Outcry  Building,"  as  the 
blurred  and  nearly  illegible  green  letters  on  the  side  of  the  soiled  white 
wooden  building  informed  the  passer-by.  This  paper  was  the  hated 
competitor  of  the  Expounder,  for  the  control  of  the  news-reading  pop 
ulation  of  Zodgeton.  The  building,  like  the  Expounder's,  was  two- 
storied,  but  somewhat  larger.  Chet  also  noted  in  his  quick  glance  at 
it,  that  the  windows  were  more  whole,  and  less  boarded  up,  but  Chet 
decided  that  it  distanced  but  little  the  Expounder  in  respectability 
from  its  outward  appearance. 

"Why  didn't  you  try  this  place  and  see  how  you  could  settle  me 
here,  Uncle?"  asked  Chet. 

"P'raps  it  would  have  been  judicious  to  have  sounded  this  place, 
but  I  don't  care  much  for  the  editor  o'  the  concern.  We  aren't  ene 
mies,"  remarked  the  Judge,  as  they  were  leaving  the  edifice  in  the 
distance,  "but  he  treated  a  friend  o'  mine  roughly.  I  like  Bosbyell, 
an'  know  if  I  had  anything  to  do  with  Brown,  the  other  editor,  our 
friendliness  would  be  knocked  asunder,  so  I  didn't  bother  with  him," 
declared  the  Judge. 

"But  won't  you  excite  the  anger  of  this  Brown,  putting  me  on  the 
opposition  paper?"  questioned  Chet. 

"Probably,  but  he  can't  hurt  my  interests.    I  can  look  out  for  my- 

41 


42  "CHET,"    A    SOUTHERN    NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

self.  I  never  create  an  enemy  if  there  is  a  possibility  of  avoiding 
it,  but  when  I  have  an  honest  end  to  gain,  I'm  not  minus  the  grit  to 
put  my  foot  forward,  my  boy,"  determinedly  spoke  the  Judge.  "My 
political  positions  must  come  to  me  before  I  will  accept  them,  and 
it  is  therein  the  strength  of  the  two  newspapers  is  centered.  I  never 
have  and  never  will  rack  my  brains  with  politics,"  concluded  the 
Judge,  "and  so  am  above  their  power." 

By  this  stage  of  their  walk  they  had  reached  the  Court  House 
Square,  and  Chet,  had  only  the  hurried  glance  at  the  town  as  he  was 
driven  by  in  the  carriage  on  the.  day  of  his  arrival. 

Before  them  was  the  typical  country  town  square,  in  the  center 
of  which  stood  the  red  brick  Court  House,  and  we  are  proudly  told 
by  the  native  Zodgetonians,  "it  cost  e-i-g-h-t  thousand,  f-i-v-e  hun 
dred."  Just  think  of  it!  If  the  town  lounger  does  not  see  any  visible 
surprise  depicted  in  your  face  he  will  probably  "drap"  with  the  same 
astonishment  he  expected  to  note  in  you. 

The  jail  of  the  place,  variously  designated  in  the  local  vernacular, 
is  a  plain,  wooden  structure,  that  does  not  evoke  the  admiration  of  the 
loungers.  Though  the  "white  trash"  are  not  partial  to  this  small 
building,  situated  at  the  east  end  of  the  square,  yet  the  law-abiding 
citizens  support  it  strenuously  as  elsewhere,  their  admiration  for  the 
plucky  sawed-off  sheriff,  Boland  Samuels,  is  unbounded.  He  is  a  mus 
cular  thickset  man  of  small  stature  and  medium  age,  his  assistant, 
"Bob"  Runkel,  is  a  lanky  six-foot-sixer,  also  exceptionally  muscular 
and  plucky. 

They  constitute  the  usual  town  police  force  and  maintain  the  peace 
with  an  iron  hand,  though  they  often  have  a  tussle  for  it.  The  "white 
trash"  give  them  the  least  trouble,  for,  as  the  sheriff  puts  it,  "they're 
all  holler  and  talk,  all  that  kind  air  cowards  for  sure."  It's  the  blooded 
people  in  their  feuds  and  quarrels  that  keep  the  "police"  of  Zodgeton 
on  the  go.  For  the  "white  trash"  the  jail  is  but  a  bugaboo,  and  the 
sheriff  and  his  deputy  are  accordingly  accorded  the  greatest  respect 
by  their  "chews,"  "drinks,"  etc.,  thrown  in  when  they  can  afford, 
so  as  to  "keep  on  th'  fair  side  o'  th'  sheriffs."  But  these  officials  take 
this  homage  and  attention  as  if  it  were  owed  them  and  the  donors 
of  the  favors  are  not  one  iota  better  off,  so  far  as  protection  from  arrest 
is  concerned,  but  they  can  brag  that  they've  "fixed  the  sheriff"  to  their 
credulous  friends,  who  speedily  become  skeptics  on  the  matter  of 
"fixin',"  if  they  ever  have  occasion  to  see  the  future  futile  efforts  of  the 
blower  to  escape  justice  by  dodging  the  law,  but  his  bragging  continues 
unabated,  even  when  he  has  had  a  long  acquaintance  with  the  interior 
of  the  jail.  These  trials  only  serve  to  increase  his  desire  to  brag  of 
an  influence  he  does  not  possess. 


"CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 


48 


Judge  Hustou  had,  in  substance,  given  all  this  information  to  Cliet 
as  they  neared  the  jail,  and  as  they  reached  the  door  of  that  building 
they  found  the  sheriff  seated  in  the  doorway,  they  stopped,  and  the 
Judge  introduced  his  nephew,  who  nearly  had  his  bones  crunched  by 
the  grip  the  sheriff  gave  his  proffered  hand. 

After  a  brief  local  conversation  and  another  introduction  to  the 


CHET'S  UNCLE  INTRODUCES  HIM  TO  THE  SHERIFF. 


sheriff's  deputy,  "Bob"  Rundel,  who  was  in  the  rear  of  the  jail,  they 
started  out  on  their  jaunt  again. 

Passing  the  Court  House,  the  Judge  met  an  old  friend,  Major 
Zachary.  While  talking  with  him,  out  of  the  Court  House  marched 
with  a  soldierly  bearing,  a  gentleman,  who  joined  the  group,  and  was 
introduced  to  Chet,  who  had  spied  him  as  he  made  his  exit  from  the 


44 


"CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 


building,  as  "Captain  Ogdane,  iny  boyhood  chum."  Chet  cordially 
shook  hands  with  him,  and  then  remained  a  quiet  spectator  and  hearer 
in  the  animated  conversation  that  followed.  When  the  conversation 
had  been  under  way  some  time  an  addition  was  made  to  the  group 
in  the  person  of  a  Squire  Peabody,  who  reanimated  the  chat.  At  last 
"a  social  glass"  was  proposed,  and  all  started  for  a  resort  designated 
briefly  "Quinn's." 

At  "Quinn's,"  which  proved  to  be  an  ordinary  country  hotel  with 
a  bar,  Colonel  Sallwell  was  met,  and  Chet  introduced. 


THE  PRIZE  BPITTEB. 

Chet  contented  himself  with  what  he  considered  an  unnecessary 
glass  of  "sodah,"  but  the  rest  of  the  party  took  something  wahrner." 
The  conviviality  of  the  gentlemen  was  pronounced,  and  Chet,  consider 
ing  his  presence  unnecessary,  stepped  to  the  door  and  took  a  look  up 
and  down  the  street. 

Outside  were  three  or  four  dry  goods  boxes,  and,  as  It  is  necessary 
for  flies  in  summer  to  get  on  butter,  so  were  the  tops  of  the  large 
wooden  boxes  hidden  by  the  forms  of  the  indigenous  lounging  "white 
trash." 


"CHBT,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  45 

They  were  drawling  out  their  miserable,  mumbled  and  nearly  un 
recognizable  English,  one  fellow  sleepily  listening  to  the  principal 
spokesman,  who  gained  ascendency  over  the  other  drawls,  was  spit 
ting  viciously  and  alternately  at  a  hole  in  an  opposite  box  and  the 
top  of  a  friend's  boot.  He  was  evidently  an  "expert,"  because  he 
hit  his  mark  without  a  miss.  This  tobacco-expectorating  William 
Tell  occupied  the  sleepy  attention  of  the  batch,  equally  with  the  orator 
of  the  crowd.  He  seemed  to  have  free  and  easy  access  to  all  the  weeds 
in  the  possession  of  his  comrades,  who  seemed  not  at  all  loth  to  supply 
him  with  "chaws  from  thir  precious  plug,"  so  long  as  he  amused 
them  with  his  accuracy  in  spurting  his  little  reservoir  of  tobacco 
juice  on  the  passing  and  inanimate  objects  in  reach,  their  own  clothes 
being  favorite  and  much  enjoyed  targets  for  his  eagle-eyed  precision 
in  expectorating. 

This  sight  nearly  gave  Chet  indigestion,  and  he  turned  on  his  heel 
and  sauntered  back  into  the  hotel,  just  as  the  "white  trash  speaker" 
began  to  "cuss"  some  individual  he  roundly  abused  as  "Lena."  For 
tunately,  the  phonograph  has  never  been  called  upon  to  reproduce 
such  a  vocabulary  of  blasphemy,  and  for  the  good  of  humanity,  I 
hope  it  never  will. 

Reaching  the  Judge  and  his  friends,  he  noted  that  from  a  rear  door 
a  number  of  "trash"  had  come  in  and  had  sprawlingly  seated  them 
selves  on  the  bar-room  table  and  chairs,  hungrily  and  wistfully  look 
ing  at  the  "prime  old  whiskey"  disappearing  down  the  throats  of  the 
Judge  and  his  friends,  the  nabobs  of  the  town. 

The  talk  of  the  party  had  tumbled  on  that  pyrotechnic  subject, 
politics,  not  national,  but  most  aggravating  local  politics.  Chet  had 
returned  to  catch  the  tail  end  of  the  wordy  tornado  of  these  fast 
friends  (?)  who  now  threatened  to  split  their  relationship  because  of 
their  partisan  views,  but  the  Judge  shone  out  resplendently  as  the  only 
individual  of  the  party  who  seemed  to  be  out  of  the  fracas  of  tongues. 
Chefs  ear  caught  the  words  of  Squire  Peabody,  who,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  declared  above  all  the  others:  "Graham  won't  be  Mayor  of 
this  town  if  my  influence  can  prevent  it." 

"Your  influence  can't  prevent  it,  Squire,"  confidently  said  Major 
Zachary,  in  a  vociferous  warmed-up  voice. 

"No,  Graham  is  the  man,"  chipped  in  a  seconding  voice,  Captain 
Ogdane's.  The  landlord,  Mr.  Quinne,  had  mingled  with  his  guests 
during  Chefs  absence  at  the  doorway.  He  shook  his  head  slightly  at 
this  declaration,  showing  his  sympathy  was  with  the  Squire. 

"Never,"  soundly  denied  the  Squire,  '  Yo'r  faction  will  never  carry 
him  over.  Will  they  Judge?"  inquired  he  of  the  erstwhile  silent  Judge. 


46  "CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

"I  don't  surmise  in  the.  matter  at  all,"  quietly  and  good-naturedly 
was  the  answer,  "I'll  let  yo'  do  the  nomination  an'  then  yo'  know  my 
vote's  fo'  th'  successful  man,  that  goes  up  on  our  unanimous  Demo 
cratic  ticket  for  election,"  replied  the  Judge  in  a  decisive  tone,  address 
ing  them  all  jocularly,  but  resolutely  in  accordance  with  his  policy 
of  washing  his  hands  of  politics. 

There  was  a  dissatisfied  "humph!"  from  the  Squire,  who  said 
something  under  his  breath  about  it  being  a  nice  thing  for  a  lawyer 
to  be  out  of  every  man's  politics,  but  the  Judge  missed  the  low  spoken 
word,  and  made  no  reply  in  consequence.  The  look  of  the  "Grahain- 
ites"  was  that  of  unconcern,  in  contrast  to  the  Squire's  crestfallen 
expression  (although  he  had  expected  the  blunt  uncompromising  an 
swer  of  the  Judge). 

The  Major  and  Captain  Ogdane  had  expected  the  usual  neutral 
answer  of  the  Judge,  whose  potent  influence,  they  precursed,  would 
be  cast  neither  way,  but  left  to  him,  whom  best  he  could,  capture  all 
or  part  of  it.  They  knew  from  experience  (as  did  the  Squire  at  heart) 
that  questions,  direct  or  indirect,  would  only  bring  forth  non-committal 
replies,  that  put  him  in  a  stronger  non-partisan  light  than  he  was  be 
fore,  and  as  their  convictions  were  not  disturbed  by  the  broaching 
of  the  Squire's  question,  their  expression  remained  as  even  as  ever. 

"How  is  yo'r  compass  guidin'  yo'  on  the  impending  primaries? 
From  what  yo've  said,  an'  what  I've  heard,  yo'  ought  to  be  reckoned 
with  the  Varnaby  faction,  along  with  the  Squire,  eh?"  asked  Major 
Zachary,  sharply  and  sourly,  of  Colonel  Sallwell,  at  the  same  time 
giving  vent  to  his  preconceived  convictions. 

"My  compass,  sir,  is  decidedly  towards  Varnaby;  he  will  surely  win 
the  mayoralty  in  spite  of  you  gentlemen,"  rejoined  Colonel  Sallwell. 

"Oh,  no!"  came  from  Major  Zachary,  Mr.  Quinne  (one  of  those 
Southern  rarities,  needing  a  titular  prefix)  and  Captain  Ogdane,  who, 
all  emphatic,  all  shook  their  heads,  and  continued  doing  so  so  long, 
that  one  might  think  they  were  endeavoring  to  imitate  dervishes.  The 
Colonel  and  the  Squire  shrugged  their  shoulders,  contemptuously,  while 
Judge  Huston  grinned  broadly. 

Said  the  Colonel,  "I  would  have  proposed  old  Captain  Stone,  but  he 
has  the  gout,  and  is  further  incapacitated  and  sorely  troubled  with 
pleurisy,  and  refuses  positively  to  put  himself  forward,  besides  he's 
a  friend  of  Varnaby,  a  staunch  friend.  I  was  disappointed,  notwith 
standing,  in  his  peremptory  manner  of  refusal,  and  readily  saw  it  was 
worse  than  useless  to  urge  him,"  pausing  to  knock  the  ashes  from  his 
cigar,  during  which  stoppage  in  his  speech  the  Major,  perhaps,  took 
undue  advantage  of  the  opportunity  and  broke  in: 


"CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

"It's  a  wonder  yo'  and  Captain  do  Gane  did't  run  out  poor  old 
Collier,"  derisively,  but  not  ungentleruanly,  spoke  Captain  Ogdane. 

"He  has  more  admirable  traits  an'  qualities  in  him  than  Varnaby 
has,  or  ever  will,"  bitterly  responded  the  Colonel. 

"Yo'  are  on  the  outs  with  Colonel  Varnaby,"  remarked  Major  Zach- 
ary,  "and  because  of  those  military  differences  that  yo'  had  with  him 
during  the  wah,  yo've  thrown  yo'r  power  in  his  way;  but  they'll 
only  impede  him,  Colonel,"  spiritedly  thrusted  the  Major. 

"By  no  means.  They'll  do  more  than  impede.  He  cannot  overcome 
the  obstacles  in  his  rocky  road  to  success.  Captain  du  Gane  is  a  most 
bitter  antagonist  of  Varnaby's,"  declared  the  Colonel,  in  responding. 

"Yes,"  irritably  said  Captain  Ogdane,  "but  I  consider  him  a  non 
entity.  He  carries  a  purse  an'  a  violent  tongue,  that's  all." 

"Sir,  you  will  soon  learn  a  deeper  respect  for  the  Captain's  ability, 
and  assess  his  power  much  higher;  you  forget  he  is  a  close  connection 
of  the  Hales,  an'  their  influence  carries  weight,  and,  that  as  well,  he 
has  influence,"  said  the  Colonel,  nettled  at  the  aspersion  cast  on  his 
friend. 

They  all  fell  to  violently  puffing  their  cigars,  except  the  Judge, 
who  leisurely  continued  his  smoke. 

At  last  Major  Zachary  started  up. 

"Well,  Cunnel,  yo'  aren't  utterly  mistaken  in  saying  that  Cap'n 
du  Gane  has  power.  But  demn  his  power,  I  say.  He  use  to  live  in 
Florida,  an'  since  th'  wah  has  settled  heah,  with  his  relatives.  Be 
cause  of  some  unknown  prejudice,  imagined  slight  or  somethin'  or 
other,  he's  gone  in  madly  with  yo'  supporters  o'  Varnaby,  but  he'll 
get  no  persimmons  for  yo'." 

"Major  Zachary,  yo'r  sympathies  carry  you  away,  I  tell  yo'."  At 
this  point  of  affairs,  Colonel  stopped,  and  with  the  rest  looked  at  the 
door,  as  there  lumbered  in  an  elephantine  man  of  truly  Falstaffian  pro 
portions,  who  looked  as  if  he  had  ruined  saloons  by  solitary  imbibing 
of  their  liquors.  In  one  of  his  fat  paws  was  the  hereditary  staff  of 
Shakespeare's  fat  knight  (so  it  seemed),  and  with  his  other  hand  he 
was  softly  patting  the  huge  black  and  shiny  alpaca  jacket  encom 
passing  his  mountainous  stomach,  that  the  benighted  savages,  who 
believe  the  seat  of  intellect  to  be  in  the  belly,  would  have  considered 
made  him  the  brainiest  individual  in  the  world. 

"Ah,  Squire  Yorde;  how  are  we?"  asked  Judge  Huston,  happily, 
both  in  welcome  to  the  newcomer,  and  in  an  effort  to  break  up  the  un 
healthy  conversation  on  the  tapis. 

"Well,  well,  I  ain't  seen  yo'  in  a  coon's  age,"  came  the  gutteral 
answer  from  this  prodigious  fat  man,  who  extended  his  left  hand  to  be 
shaken,  as  it  was. 


AH,  SQUIBB  YOBDE,  HOW  ABE  WE  ?' 


"CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  49 

"Here  is  another  upholder  of  Graham,  Colonel,"  declared  the  Ma 
jor,  triumphantly,  as  the  corpulent  personage  was  being  introduced  to 
Chet,  by  the  Judge.  The  Colonel  looked  at  this  "upholder"  in  profound 
contempt. 

Squire  Yorde  immediately  proposed  more  liquor,  which  was  ordered, 
and  all,  excepting  abstemious  Chet,  partook  of  with  great  gusto.  Then 
the  Judge,  looking  at  the  clock,  mentioned  the  time  to  Chet,  debated 
a  second  with  himself  about  leaving  the  rest,  and  then  decided  to 
bid  them  au  revoir,  temperately  declining  more  liquor.  Chet  and  the 
Judge  then  started  for  home. 

So  it  was  that  Chet  obtained  his  first  conception  of  Zodgeton  proper 
and  Zodgetonians. 


CHAPTER  V. 


"THE  NEW  REPORTER  ON  THE  EXPOUNDER." 

Monday  was  the  appointed  day  for  Chefs  commencement  in  his 
official  capacity  on  the  staff  of  the  Daily  Expounder.  The  day  of  the 
visit  being  Saturday,  there  was  but  Sunday  to  intervene,  and  Chet 
went  to  church  with  the  Judge  and  his  family,  spending  the  remainder 
of  the  day  in  absolute  rest  and  quiet. 

Monday  morning  Chet  was  up  bright  and  early,  outdoing  his  uncle, 
who  was  snoring  away  for  dear  life  (as  he  had  been  each  morning,  for 
that  matter.) 

After  one  of  Aunt  Chly's  most  excellent  breakfasts,  Chet  and  the 
Judge  started  out  to  walk  into  town,  to  the  Expounder  Building,  foot 
ing  it,  as  the  Judge  said,  to  reduce  superfluous  flesh,  although  this 
hardly  held  good  in  Chefs  case.  Still  the  lively  little  pace  they  pedes 
trianized  at  freshened  and  stimulated  him. 

The  Judge  just  dropped  in  at  the  Expounder  office,  exchanging 
greetings  with  Bosbyell,  who  had  just  arrived  ahead  of  them,  and 
then  went  on  down  town,  to  attend  to  some  legal  and  private  business. 

Bosbyell  had  saluted  Chet  with  a  brief  "Howdy,"  and  had  then  con 
tinued  a  whispered  disjointed  conversation  with  two  young  men  busy 
on  some  files  of  papers. 

During  the  elapse  of  time,  Chet  sat  uneasily  on  his  seat,  uncertain 
if  there  would  not  be  a  good  sized  hole  in  the  seat  of  his  trousers  by 
the  time  the  editor  was  ready  to  talk  out,  or  if  the  seat  of  his  invalid 
chair  might  not  go  through,  overburdened  with  its  cares,  or  if  the 
solemn  clock  should  run  down  with  ^atigue,  or  some  other  catastrophe 
happen,  but  his  fears  were  groundless. 

After  a  time,  the  uneasy  situation  of  Chet  was  relieved  by  Bosbyell 
quietly  suggesting  that  Chet  hang  up  his  hat  and  coat,  as  he  and  his 
associates  had  done. 

After  having  flung  off  his  coat  and  "nailed"  his  hat  with  it,  Chet 
looked  askant  at  the  editor,  who  was  preoccupied  on  a  paper  one  of 
the  young  men  had  handed  him,  and  was  consulting  him  about,  the 
other  remaining  equally  occupied,  on  a  little  bundle  of  sheets  of  his 

50 


"CHET,"    A    SOUTHERN    NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 


51 


own,  which  seemed  to  cause  him  numerous  internal  dissensions  and 
debates. 

Again  the  silence  was  dispelled  by  the  editor  completing  his  labored 
correction  of  errors  on  the  sheet  before  him,  and  looking  up,  hastily 
introducing  the  young  man  at  his  side  as  "Mark  Bosbyell,  my  brother, 
associate  editor  of  the  Expounder."  The  two  young  fellows,  Chet  and 
Mark,  nodded  pleasantly  at  each  other,  and  then  the  other  young  man, 


THEN  CONTINUED  A  WHISPERED,   DISJOINTED  CONVERSATION. 

"Mr.  Digby  Olden,"  a  rather  reserved,  but  more  pleasant-featured 
young  fellow  than  Mark,  who  was  not  ugly,  was  introduced.  He 
looked  to  Chet  a  little  older,  possibly  twenty-four. 


52  "CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

Mr.  Olden,  in  common  parlance,  "Dig,"  was  a  plain  reporter,  like 
Chet.  Having  finished  his  office  work  to  his  satisfaction,  he  grabbed 
his  coat,  tossed  his  "straw"  on  his  head,  and  bounced  out  with  a 
scarcely  articulated  "good-day,"  for  common  politeness  sake.  Mr. 
Mark  Bosbyell  soon  followed  suit  in  a  like  manner.  Then  the  editor 
continued  scribbling  away  with  a  round  blue  pencil  he  held  eccentric 
ally  up,  down,  crossways,  sideways  and  noways,  it  seemed  to  Chet. 
At  last,  the  pencil  was  banged  on  the  desk,  and  the  editor  freed  his  lungs 
of  pent  up  carbon  dioxide,  and,  after  having  left  off  his  surplus  steam, 
he  pushed  his  chair  back  against  the  wall,  with  a  whack. 

"Well,  Chet,"  said  he  tentatively,  "I  suppose  you  want  something 
to  do.  Just  look  over  these  files  the  boys  have  made;  those  are  the 
'about  town'  results  of  their  wits  yesterday,  and  I  guess  yo'll  find  er 
rors  in  their  work.  I  always  do.  If  you  find  they  are  shatterin'  gram 
mar  or  anything  like  that  just  fix  it;  when  yo're  through  I'll  have 
something  more  for  you." 

So  Chet  pitched  into  work,  and  for  the  next  few  days  he  was  in 
for  it  in  earnest,  and  showed  Bosbyell  and  his  assistants  his  mettle. 
His  labor  was  entirely  in  the  office,  most  foreignly  to  a  reporter's 
duties,  revising  the  notes  and  "tid-bits"  brought  in  by  Mark  and  "Dig," 
and  even  descending  from  his  nominal  position  of  reporter  into  that 
of  book-keeper. 

When  the  proofreader  was  "laid  up"  for  a  day,  he  also  took  his 
place  into  the  bargain,  with  his  other  duties. 

The  office,  in  pursuance  of  his  statement  to  the  Judge,  Chet  had  set 
about  to  renovate.  First  of  all,  at  spare  moments,  he  cleaned  it  up 
until  it  was  thoroughly  free  from  dust,  after  having  persuaded  Bos 
byell  to  lay  away  his  desk  papers,  so  that  they  would  not  be  swept 
away,  and  the  two  assistants  of  his  staff,  tractable  enough,  if  he  could 
only  show  them  the  point  gained  in  doing  a  thing,  but  this  took  all 
his  Ingenuity  and  patience  to  do,  and  then  he  only  partially  succeeded. 
The  room-cleaning,  oiling  of  the  editor's  century  unoiled  office  chair, 
that  screeched  so  pathetically  at  times,  the  varnishing  of  the  editor's 
desk,  was  work,  performed  almost  entirely  by  Chet  with  the  simple 
accedance  of  Bosbyell  and  his  associate  editor  and  brother,  and  the 
slight,  but  good-natured  assistance  of  the  other  reporter,  "Dig."  The 
cleaning  of  the  hall,  he  had  done  by  the  combined  assistance  of  the 
compositor,  "Dig"  and  himself,  but  his  efforts  to  obtain  new  panes 
for  the  broken  office  windows  (remember,  one  was  whole)  fell  flat, 
as  did  his  efforts  for  a  repainting  of  the  room  and  hall,  and  the  mend 
ing  of  the  dilapidated  balustrade. 

One  event  had  occurred  which  proved  most  baleful  to  Chet,  who 


"CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN    NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  53 

had  never  been  in  such  a  position  before.  The  day  Chet  joined 
the  Expounder,  Bosbyell  had  written  a  laudatory  article,  commending 
him  to  all  perusers  of  the  paper,  and  the  next  day  it  was  given  promi 
nent  space,  much  to  Chefs  personal  gratification,  but  the  next  day 
following  the  publishing  of  the  issue  containing  the  article,  Chefs 
pride  was  as  rudely  knocked  to  its  knees,  by  a  glaring  editorial  in  the 
Outcry,  the  opposition  paper,  which  was  handed  to  him  for  his  in 
spection  by  "Dig,"  the  young  reporter,  with  whom  he  had  become  a 
mutual  chum.  Here  is  the  article: 

"On  Monday  of  this  week,  that  foul  contemporary,  The  Daily  Ex 
pounder,  of  this  city,  received  an  addition  to  its  ranks,  in  the  person 
of  a  young  imported  blockhead,  by  name  Wunnal,  which  fact  is  boasted 
of  in  large  type  by  that  empty-headed  verbialist  who  edits  the  sheet. 
From  responsible  sources,  we  learn  that  this  American-English  ape, 
this  Wunnal,  is  a  son  of  a  Northern  New  England  born  and  far  West 
bred  Yankee,  who  married  by  elopement  a  Southern  girl,  and  then 
went  to  Kansas  and  turned  dead  North,  after  seeing  that  his  attempts 
to  pass  as  a  Southerner  were  nil.  The  uncle  of  this  pernicious  fellow 
Wunnal,  who  has  joined  the  asinine  staff  of  the  Expounder,  was  a 
cowardly,  Northern  scribbler,  who  ran  a  defiling  paper  in  a  black 
abolitionist  settlement  on  the  border  of  Missouri,  abusing  the  fail- 
South,  and  her  people  and  principles  in  a  manner  that  no  self-respect 
ing  Southern  journalist  could  hope  to  have  imitated  even  if  he  so  vilely 
willed.  This  flattered  popinjay,  who  has  invaded  the  sacred  precincts 
of  this  beautiful  city,  is  now  prepared  to  stuff  down  the  throats  of  our 
unsuspecting  citizens  the  most  shameless,  improvised  calumnies  con 
cocted  in  conjunction  with  his  despicable  associate  writers  of  that  vi 
tiated  sheet,  styled  the  Expounder.  Shun  him!  Shun  him  and  the  leper 
sheet  he  writes  for!" 

''Well,  that  fellow  has  a  gentle  outlet  to  his  opinions,  hasn't  he," 
said  Chet,  to  "Dig"  and  Bosbyell,  as  he  finished  reading. 

"Oh,  that's  nothing,"  replied  the  editor,  "you  wait  awhile,  and  see 
how  he  improves  on  it." 

"I've  a  mind  to  go  around  to  his  office  and  punch  his  head  for 
him,"  said  Chet,  with  flashing  eyes. 

"Don't  do  that,  Chet,"  said  "Dig,"  quickly.  "He  has  his  shootin' 
irons  for  visitors,  and  yo'  wouldn't  find  the  office  healthy,  even  if  yo' 
carried  a  gun,  an'  I  reckon  yo'  don't,  do  yo'?" 

"No,"  replied  Chet,  shortly,  "but  I'll  give  him  a  beating  for  this." 

"No,  yo'  won't,"  declared  the  editor,  mollifyingly.  "Yo'll  be  doing 
sensibly  if  yo'  quell  yo'r  uncle's  anger,  if  he  has  any,  as  well  as  yo'r 
own.  This  fellow  an'  his  lot  are  only  too  ready  for  a  row,  an'  they'll 


64  "OHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

get  it,"  meaningly,  "before  th'  municipal  nominating  convention  ad 
journs,  without  yo'  steppin'  in." 

Later  Chet  made  additional  threats  to  chastise  the  editor  of  the 
Outcry,  but  subsequently  followed  Bosbyell's  and  "Dig's"  advice,  in 
fully  quieting  his  irate  uncle's  gorge  as  well  as  his  own,  but  now 
forth  Chet  began  to  think  much  more  of  the  Expounder,  and  felt  thor 
oughly  revengeful  against  the  Outcry,  and  pricked  on  by  the  event, 
he  soon  became  learned  in  the  little  school  of  sarcasm  and  agnosticism 
advocated  by  the  press. 

The  Expounder  had  sided  with  Colonel  Jefferson  Hadry  Graham, 
in  the  struggle  for  the  mayoralty  nomination,  and  the  Outcry  had 
taken  up  the  hue  and  cry  against  Graham,  and  was  at  the  back  of 
Colonel  Marius  Cassius  Varnaby.  The  nomination  struggle  was  equiv 
alent  to  that  for  election,  for  the  man  nominated  on  the  Democratic 
ticket  was  elected  we  could  say  with  confidence. 

The  animosity  of  the  two  papers  was  now  vastly  increased  by 
their  stands  on  the  issue  and  the  exchange  of  penned  bullets  were  fre 
quent.  The  papers  had  changed  from  being  full  of  local  news  and 
advertisements  to  being  full  of  politics,  partisanship  and  advertise 
ments. 

The  nominating  convention  would  convene  in  a  week,  hence  the  ex 
citement  had  risen  from  intermittent  to  persistent  fever  heat,  even  the 
"white  trash"  of  the  town  were  inoculated  with  the  vim  around  them, 
and  followed  and  rallied  around  their  respective  leaders,  who  were 
proficient  in  the  art  of  bully-ragging  and  bombasticism. 

Bad  blood,  strained  relationships,  had  sprung  up  generally,  and 
plainly  trouble  was  ahead,  while  the  two  papers  of  the  town  were 
foremost  in  the  inciting  of  the  rising  wrath. 

Friday  of  the  week,  each  faction  was  to  hold  their  barbecue  with 
their  partisans;  winding  up  their  enthusiasm  for  the  vital  week.  Bos- 
byell  decided  that  Chet,  in  company  with  Dig,  should  be  initiated  into 
the  practical  duties  of  his  office,  by  reporting  in  conjunction  with  his 
fellow-reporter,  the  on-coming  "  'cue,"  at  which  numerous  factional 
Demosthenes  would  lift  up  their  voices  in  eulogy  of  their  candidates 
and  in  depreciation  of  their  opponents. 

Not  only  the  Mayor,  but  the  town  councilmen,  as  well,  were  to 
be  nominated,  together  with  a  sheriff  (Samuels  being  an  unanimous 
choice,  this  issue  was  ended),  and  minor  officials  of  the  municipal 
government. 

Speechmaking,  drinking  and  the  other  accompaniments  of  "ante-elec 
tion"  were  daily  and  nightly  occurring,  but  none  of  these  by-events 
rose  to  the  dignity  of  a  "  'siderable  gatherin',"  and  beyond  casual 


"CtiBT,"  A  SOUTHER^  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER.        &J 

remarks,  or  jottings  of  their  occurrence,  the  ambitious  principals,  who 
preached  themselves  hoarse  on  politics,  were  unable  to  see  their  Web- 
sterian  spoutings  in  black  and  vanity-producing  print. 

But,  mayhaps,  the  predominating  cause  of  the  non-appearance  of 
the  innumerable  factional  speeches  on  the  pages  of  either  newspaper 
was  owing  to  the  space  taken  up  by  the  "addresses  to  the  people-at- 
large,"  of  the  "manifestoes,"  warning  and  desecrating  "editorials," 
"the  opinions  of  this  paper  on  political  issue,"  and  the  countless  stories 
of  a  scurrilous  nature,  printed  to  create  a  current  adversion  against 
the  other  side. 

Chet  was  doing  a  Trojan's  job  now,  as  were  his  fellows,  who  were 
characteristically  sluggards,  but  whose  Southern  blood  had  commenced 
to  tingle  under  the  opposition  "fire,"  and  danger  was  sniffable  in  their 
spasmodic  efforts,  in  which  it  was  noticeable  that  indolence  was  ab 
sent,  a  most  ominous  sign. 

To  give  a  lucid  schedule  of  affairs,  I  will  excerpt  from  the  two 
duelistic  journals,  the  Citizen's  Outcry  and  the  Daily  Expounder. 

The  following  is  an  article  written  in  sarcastic  feeling,  desiring 
an  amendment  of  Bosbyell's  name,  written,  of  course,  by  the  Editor 
Browne,  of  the  Outcry: 

"We  have  an  ambiguous  paper,  which  especially  afflicts  this  proud 
city,  as  well  as  the  press  of  the  entire  State. 

"This  aforesaid  sheet  is  edited  by  a  loud-voiced  falsifier,  whom 
we  know,  to  our  sorrow,  as  Bosbyell,  a  downright,  dyed-in-the-wool, 
stamped-on-the-face  political  roustabout,  and  a  knave  of  all  species. 
A  man  to  avoid  personally,  and  in  propriety,  to  shun  in  all  quarters. 

"This  simulator  of  respectability  and  honesty,  entitled  Bosbyell, 
spells  liis  miserable  cognomen  most  incorrectly,  for  to  be  indited  un- 
eriiugly  there  should  be  an  inserted  H  between  the  fifth  and  sixth 
letters  of  his  surname  as  it  stands  at  present,  otherwise  the  name  will 
remain  supremely  inappropriate,  for  in  speaking  of  him  orally  we  in 
tonate  it  both  necessarily  and  unconsciously  with  the  H. 

"A  man  with  such  a  sardonic  smile,  satanic  laugh,  and  devilish 
heart,  deserves  all  the  inherent  significance  of  the  appellation  of  hades, 
the  only  region  he  is  suited  or  was  intended  for.  His  glaring  crimes 
and  defects,  which  he  attempts  to  cover  with  blackest  iniquity,  rouse 
the  wrath  of  his  justly  indignant  peers,  and  he  v;ill  yet  be  groveling 
at  the  feet  of  those  he  has  backbitten,  blackmailed  and  degradingly 
libeled.  Therefore,  1  reiterate,  brand  this  snake  in  the  grass,  if  not  in 
name,  in  social  standing,  my  suggestion  is  only  a  portion  of  giving  the 
devil  his  due." 

The  following  is  a  retort  of  Bosbyell  on  the  animosity  of  the  Out 
cry: 


56  "CHBT,"   A  SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

"The  mangy  little  job  press  of  this  city,  the  Outcry,  which  has  gath 
ered  a  number  of  supporters  around  it,  by  its  honeyed  language  (which 
it  only  uses  to  gain  favor),  now  puts  forth  another  of  its  petty  affronts 
against  us  by  trumping  up  a  lot  of  disagreeable  rot  against  a  new 
member  of  our  staff,  at  the  same  time  disparaging  his  noble,  unblem 
ished  family  name. 

'•The  insignificant  puppy  of  this  whining  sheet,  its  editor,  I  refer 
to,  should  hide  his  head  in  abject  shame,  when  he  comes  to  the  sub 
ject  of  names,  let  alone  the  fact  that  he  has  been  the  author  and 
flaunter  of  consummate  bosh  by  which  he  has  tried  to  become  con 
spicuous,  he  has  tacked  to  him  a  cognomen  that  causes  the  thinking 
man  to  laugh.  It  is  a  name  that  truly  exhibits  the  commonness,  and 
gross  trashiness  of  his  ancestors,  and  demonstrates  in  letters,  the 
personification  of  vain  unbridled  idiocy,  one  finds  the  personage  whom 
it  designates  when  he  comes  to  deal  with  him.  What  nerve  has  this 
flustering  jackanape  to  come  forward  and  criticise  the  name  Bosbyell, 
an  hereditary  honor  of  itself,  when  he  himself,  is  forced  to  sign  him 
self  (which  he  does  with  supreme  pomposity)  Marmaduke  Livingstone 
Smith-Browne.  The  elongatedness,  worthlessness,  and  affectedness 
expressed  in  these  cognomens  are  a  practical,  philosophical  deduction 
of  the  being's  individuality." 


CHAPTER  VL 


"CHET  IN  HIS  OFFICIAL  CAPACITY  AT  THE  BARBECUE." 

The  barbecue,  or  'cue,  as  it  is  characteristically  tersed  by  its  avowed 
practitioners,  is  indigenous  to  the  New  World.  When  our  old  benefac 
tor  Senor  (beg  pardon,  Mr.)  Christofo  Colombo,  first  "struck"  his  con 
tinent,  he  found  the  wild  Caribs  (from  the  native  name  of  whom 
cannibal  was  derived)  heartily  ready  to  'cue  him  and  his  small  ex 
pedition,  as  the  full-blooded  Caribs  of  the  forests  of  Guiana,  and  along 
the  Orinoco  River,  South  America,  are  yet  anxious  to  do  with  adventur 
ous  beings  of  the  present. 

This  Indo-American  race  of  man-eaters  (scarcely  as  sharky  as 
some  of  their  Yankee  brethren  of  to-day)  attained  to  the  acme  of 
cannibalism,  and  practiced  their  skill  in  the  said  art,  on  quite  a  num 
ber  of  the  islands  of  the  West  Indies,  from  which  they  have  mysteri 
ously  disappeared,  but  their  progeny  still  inhabit  the  coast  of  the 
Caribbean,  extending  from  the  Isthmus  of  Darien  nearly  on  to  the 
River  Amazon's  mouth.  All,  except  the  South  American  type  of  Caribs, 
lack  the  traditional  humanity-chewing  love  of  their  forefathers. 

General  (Christian  name  abbreviated)  Oglethorpe  and  his  steadfast 
proteges,  the  bankrupt  debtors,  settled  fair  and  sunny  Georgia,  and 
they  no  doubt  observed  the  native  'cuing  trait,  and  turned  'cuists  them 
selves.  Although  converted  by  force  of  example,  they  neglected  most 
luckily  to  devour  each  other  with  the  Indian  avidity,  but  preyed  upon 
Nature's  lower  animals,  serving  them  as  the  barbarians  did  their  help 
less  prisoners. 

Barbecue  is  authoritively  declared  to  be  derived  from  the  Haytien 
barbacoa,  signifying  a  framework  of  sticks.  The  barbecue,  or  'cue,  is 
now  only  peculiar  to  some  of  the  Western  and  Southern  of  the  United 
States,  each  having  especial  functions,  features  and  adjuncts  of  their 
own.  But  all  are,  as  a  rule,  open  air  entertainments  and  social  gather 
ings  whereat  animals  are  broiled  or  roasted  intact. 

The  two  political  'cues  of  the  Zodgetonians  were  to  be  in  the  pure, 
outdoor  air,  and  all  connoisseurs  and  gourmands  of  'cues  were  cor- 
dlal'y  invited  to  be  on  hand  to  act  in  one  accord. 

The  Varnabyites  had  a  beautiful,  luxuriant  grove  of  their  own, 

57 


58  "CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

as  had  the  energetic  Grahamites,  and  each  had  their  eyes  on  the  other 
in  their  preparations  for  their  feasts.  Each  strove  to  secure  the  best 
known  and  valued  'cuists  purveyors,  and  each  met  with  equalized 
flattering  success. 

Outlays  for  all  minor,  as  well  as  potent  features  were  made  with 


STARTING  FOB  THE  "CUE". 


the  usual  demagogue's  liberally  before  election  (we  know  he  has  none 
after). 

Everyone  was  "pol'tics  crazy,"  and  the  "trash"  that  could  read  to 
his  fellows  the  political  news,  was  considered  a  jewel,  his  stammering 
forgiven  and  poor  pronunciation  overlooked. 

The  night  of  the  rival  'cues  stomach  desire  and  faction  excitement 
had  risen  the  blood  of  the  most  sluggish  partisans  to  fever  heat,  and 
their  pulses  would  have  alarmed  all  but  a  Southern  physician. 


A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPEfe    REPORTED.  69 

Obet  felt  the  inward  and  outward  strut  of  proud  and  honored  boy 
hood,  but  to  prevent  pride  going  before  a  fall,  Judge  Huston  warned 
his  gladsome  nephew  to  beware  of  expressed  or  demonstrative  par 
tisanship,  and  Miss  Katherine  tossed  a  sarcastic  thrust  into  the  grue 
some  lot  of  advice,  which,  however,  Chet  bore  in  mind. 

It  was  a  fragrant  moon  and  starlight  night,  the  orange  blossom, 
Cherokee  rose  and  other  emblematic  Southern  flowers  were  out  in  all 
1heir  versed  glory;  the  scene  so  quaint  and  dear  to  all  thorough-hearted 
Georgians,  and  to  all  entrancing,  but  as  I  am  not  a  poet,  I  cannot 
transpose  my  description  to  verse,  more  than  to  say  that  the  scene 
was  a  poem  in  itself. 

Chet,  with  "Dig,"  and  his  fellow,  and,  as  I  remarked,  chum,  started 
and  arrived  at  the  grove  together,  in  company  with  hordes  of  exuber 
ant,  boastful  Varnabyites,  who  made  their  blood  surge  with  their 
partisan  talk,  especially  "Dig's,"  but,  with  good  discipline  of  charac 
ter,  they  abstained  from  firing  back  at  the  outnumbering  crowd  blas 
pheming  their  friends;  they  were  there  to  observe,  note  and  report,  and 
criticise  their  pleasure,  both  in  print  and  verbally  when  out  of  the  en 
emy's  camp. 

"Remember  it  is  as  much  as  yo'r  life  is  wo'th  to  be  an  outspoken 
G;-ahamite  to-night.  Yo'  must  be  mum  for  sure,  Chet,"  whispered  "Dig," 
to  Chet,  as  he  separated  from  him  to  "round  up"  occurrences  and  in 
cidents,  with  spying,  a  no  unimportant  side-object,  Chet  felt,  and  was 
well  cautioned,  started  with  the  same  object  as  his  chum,  quietly 
maintaining  his  reserve. 

Georgia  is  the  State  for  'cues  (though  a  Kentuckian  will  tell  you 
differently),  and  we  hold  that  the  Kentucky  "cocktail"  colonel  is  the 
dominant  imbiber  of  throat  blazing  rum  in  general  (though  there  are 
others  to  claim  the  honor  (?)),  but  Georgia  ranks  among  the  num 
ber  ones  all  around. 

What  Southern  "trash"  can't  guzzle  a  barrel  of  whisky  and  its 
sister  intoxicants,  mixed  and  unmixed,  and  yet  remain  supremely 
unsatisfied?  And  if  "trash"  stomachs  can  receive  and  store  all  this, 
what  cannot  the  cultivated,  blue-blood  imbibers  dispose  of  in  their 
copper-lined  receptacles  in  the  same  ratio? 

The  hungry  and  thirsty  bellied  "  'cuist"  gluttons  were  out  in 
divided,  but  omnipotent  force,  and  he  who  was  delicate  about  pitching 
in  (by-the-by,  where  was  he?)  was  left,  but  Chet  felt  assured  that  every 
one  landed  on  the  food,  and  that  the  food  landed  in  them,  before  the 
stars  had  had  half  a  chance  to  twinkle. 

Negroes,  stationed  at  the  pits,  were  busily  occupied  and  sweating, 
in  basting  the  carcasses,  which  work  had  been  proceeding  slowly,  con- 


60  "CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

stantly  and  carefully  for  many  hours,  as  it  must  be  up  to  standard 
"  'cue"  quality.  Lambs,  shoats,  and  kindred  animals,  not  oxen,  or  large 
quadrupeds,  were  roasting  entire  and  cooking  tediously,  to  follow  the 
viands  that  the  carnivorous  crowd  would  soon  demolish  in  their  en 
tirety,  and,  be  yelling  and  growling  for  more,  but  the  "more"  was 
the  "holder,"  as  well  as  the  "bait,"  for,  in  spite  of  worked  up  enthusi 
asm,  sleepy,  bored,  constituents  will  desert  tiresome  speakers  unless 
there  is  a  "something,"  a  big  "something"  like  this,  to  keep  them  to 
gether;  thus  discretion  won  the  day,  for  the  "something,"  the  remain 
der  of  the  "layout,"  came  in  at  the  end  of  the  all-important  speech- 
making.  The  fox  never  treats,  unless  he  gets  his  dues. 

Chet  was  not  enraptured  or  appetized  by  the  process  of  prepara 
tion  for  the  'cue's  grand  finale,  the  uninitiated  are  generally  placed 
hors  du  combat  by  prolonged  gazing,  just  as  green  seafarers  catch 
sea-sickness,  and  decided  it  was  the  best  for  his  gustativeness  to  level 
his  sight  on  some  other  scene  than  the  little  domestic  animals  over 
in  the  long  trenches,  resting  separately  on  rods  or  spits,  over  the  live 
coals,  while  the  blacks,  under  the  superintendence  of  knowing  white 
individuals,  were  busily  moistening  the  carcasses  with  an  aperient 
basting  (vinegar  and  so  forth)  as  the  carcasses  kept  on  their  slow, 
hades-like  roast. 

The  finis  of  the  'cue  roast  is  encountered  when  the  roasting  car 
casses  fall  apart,  at  which  stage  all  "fall  in,"  devouring  with  'cuist 
rapacity  the  juicy  batches  of  the  'cued  animals,  which  are  now  edible 
and  through  muster,  having  been  deposited  in  yellow  capacious  bowls 
in  liberal  heaps. 

The  stews,  which  form  the  other  half  of  the  barbecue,  must  be 
as  slowly,  expertly  and  conscientiously  cooked  as  the  "roasts."  The  stews 
are  compounded  and  devised  both  for  the  vegetarian,  and  inveterate 
meat-eater,  and  that  mortal,  the  combined  vegetable  and  meat-eater; 
that  is,  some  are  composed  of  vegetables,  and  others  of  meat,  but  an 
admixture  is  never  made.  An  epicure  who  enjoys  both,  can  have  both, 
but  served  up  separately. 

Chet  held  aloof  from  the  feast  and  did  not  test  the  result  of  dili 
gent,  epicurean  labor,  in  spite  of  all  the  praises  and  congratulations 
showered  upon  the  'cuist  principals,  much  of  which  he  overheard. 
He  had  staved  off  hunger  by  eating  his  full  before  setting  out  on  his 
trip,  and  as  he  had  scant  appreciation  of  the  repast  that  was  under 
attack,  he  did  not  feel  pangs  of  regret,  as  the  'cue  devouring  abated, 
by  reason  of  the  giving  out  of  prepared  victuals,  and  the  assembling 
of  the  crowd  to  hear  the  speakers. 

Chet  Jostled  forward  with  the  slow  and  now  sombre  crowd  (the 


"CHET,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER.  61 

process  of  assimilating  their  fill  of  'cue,  a  part  of  digestion  that 
knocks  the  tenderfoot  to  pieces,  had  stricken  out  the  rampant  joviality; 
but  the  crowd  was  just  saving  themselves  for  events  that  needed 
boisterous  attention. 

The  large  "speakers'  platform"  was  down  in  a  hollow,  beautifully 


GEORGIA  IS  THE  STATE  FOB  "CUE." 

surrounded  by  Southern  nature,  as  well  as  Southern  natures.  The 
"orators  of  the  night"  were  ranged  in  school-boy's  free-hand  half  cir 
cle,  irregular  and  crooked.  All  were  seated  or  about  to  be  so  when 
Chet  took  up  his  site  on  the  little  knoll,  from  which  coign  of  vantage 
he  could  espy  all  operations  beneath  him  on  the  level  lower  down. 
On  the  center  of  the  fair-sized  elevated  platform  was  a  small  ob- 


(J2  "CfeET,"   A  SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   UEPOftTEtt. 

long  table,  with  a  smashed  white  pitcher,  and  a  woebegone  glass  on 
it,  the  usual  voice  restorer  receptacle,  with  possibly  some  soothing, 
exhilarating  ingredients  in  its  liquid  contained  within. 

Chet  recognized  but  one  of  the  seated  natty,  coolly  attired  gentle 
men  of  consequence.  To  the  extreme  left,  but  two  chairs  from  the  end 
of  the  semi-circle,  was  "Mr."  Quinne  (one  of  those  Southern  rarities 
needing  a  titular  prefix,  but  he  was  a  hotel  keeper).  This  individual 
Chet  well  remembered.  As  he  sat,  brushed  and  dressed  up  in  his  best, 
he  decidedly  smacked  of  the  hotel  variety.  From  the  shadowy  out 
lines  of  his  face,  it  looked  as  if  he  desired  to  step  forth  as  an  orator, 
but  he  had  not  the  temerity  to  try  the  experiment  and  risk  a  poor 
talker's  abject  downfall. 

Beside  him  was  a  Splinny,  puffed  cheeked  Southern  planter,  a 
heavyweight  beyond  question.  On  Quinne's  (excuse  me,  "Mr."  Quinue, 
that  honorary  title  must  never  be  neglected  by  outsiders)  right,  was> 
a  genteel,  glossy  Southerner.  This  species  of  the  Southern  population 
are  worse  than  that  "white  trash."  They  are  all-around  "bad  men," 
but  there  are  any  number  to  counteract  their  stains,  who  are  virtuous, 
and,  as  I  might  most  expressively  put  it,  are  true  as  "Sheffield"  steel. 

The  other  characters  gesticulating  and  chattering,  were  of  un- 
sorted  species,  all  interesting,  and  nearly  all  were  acting  on  the  sur 
face,  especially  those  who  had  stakes  in  the  forecast.  In  the  center 
of  this  congregation  of  amateurs  and  professional  politicians,  was 
the  honorable  Colonel  Varuaby,  just  arrived,  of  course,  in  the  com 
pany  of  Colonel  Sallwell,  Squire  Peabody,  and  another  man  of 
importance,  by  looks  a  French-American.  They  were  endeavoring 
to  utilize  their  pairs  of  arms  as  if  they  had  fifty,  but  it  is  wonderful 
what  acrobats  we  become  under  pressure.  After  the  wild  rush  had 
subsided,  the  gentlemen  set  the  example  by  dropping  into  their  chairs 
and  coming  to  order.  The  crowd  was  stilled. 

A  gentleman  with  a  florid  countenance,  arose  from  his  chair  and 
walked  across  the  platform,  speedily  reaching  the  water  pitcher,  which, 
without  ado,  he  lifted  and  poured  some  of  its  contents  into  the  glass 
and  drained  it,  then,  quietly  moving  his  lips  nervously  in  preparation 
for  enunciation,  he  at  length  commenced  in  opening  the  programme 
of  the  evening. 

"Gentlemen!"  sonorously,  and  with  forced  distinctness,  came  his 
voice  from  vocal  depths.  "Allow  me  to  present  as  the  first  speaker 
of  the  evening,  a  gentleman  of  great  probity  of  character.  The  great 
befriender,  Major  Jackson."  with  a  graceful  willowy  wave  of  his  hand, 
indicating  a  brief,  stout  old  gentleman,  possessed  of  a  benevolent,  com 
ical  face  and  a  bald  pate. 


AMBITIOUS  PRINCIPALS  WHO  PREACHED  THEMSELVES  HOARSE  ON  POLITICS, 


64        "CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

The  announcer  retired  and  the  Major,  a  popular  planter,  came 
forward,  amid  the  cheers  of  the  crowd,  and  cries  of  "here  comes  Major 
Hank!"  With  one  long  'haw,"  the  Major  rushed  along  with  his  re 
marks  and  borrowing  from  Chefs  note  book,  I  may,  without  copious 
ness,  reproduce  phrases  of  the  quaint  half  illiterate  speech  rendered. 

"Boys!  We  air  heah  to-night  for  the  good  o'  ourselves,  an'  th' 
opposition  as  well.  For  they  air  beyond  conjecturin'  standin'  in  their 
own  light,  shadowin'  themselves,  they  air  their  own  wust  enemies, 
as  th'  old  sayin'  goes,  an'  we  air  their  only  friends.  For  by  keepin' 
them  out  o'  office  we  prevent  'em  ruinin'  themselves.  O'  course,  we 
will  win,  there  can't  be  a  person  heah,  who  thinks  diffierent,  but  we 
have  reason  to  win. 

"I  hev  been  selected  one  o'  yo'r  Aldermen,  befo',  an'  have  helped 
to  make  that  body  an'  its  executive,  the  Mayor,  the  revered  corpora 
tion  it  is,  I  b'lieve.  Therefore,  I  speak  with  the  persuasion  o'  whole- 
someness  an'  thinkfulness. 

"I  doant  condemn  a  thing  wrong  jest  'cause  it  looks  wrong,  but 
'cause  it  is  wrong,  found  out  by  proof  an'  actual  contact  with  it. 

"Th'  other  faction,  it  is  true,  have  some  of  the  ol'  legislators  in  their 
tissuepaper  opposition,  but  they  air  the  dissenters,  maligners  and  in- 
cumbrances  o'  th'  party  they  were  'lected  with.  Their  perfidy  will  be 
paid  in  bad  coin  by  their  new  found  allurin'  allies,  mark  me. 

"Th'  invulnerable,  hard  an'  thick  skulled  reprobates  o'  family  an' 
social  standin'  behin'  th'  brazen,  outrageous  scamp  a  whinin'  fo'  yo'r 
ballot,  air  led  by  a  counterfeit  gold  ring  in  th'  nose  now,  but  their  ring 
will  feel  brassy,  an'  th'  flesh  '11  be  cut,  then  th'  brass'll  take  effect, 
blood  poisonin'  will  set  in,  and  then  will  come  the  rupture  o'  relations 
between  'em  all.  This'll  surely  be,  as  the  heavens  above  us,  but  doant 
low  these  fellers  to  get  in  office,  an'  then  split,  or  th'  city  coffers  '11 
be  th'  salve  for  their  wounds  in  gen'ral.  Therefor'  I  appeal  to  yo'r  own 
self-respect  as  citizens  o'  Georgy  to  squash  th'  blamed  combine  o'  swin 
ish  hogs,  this  alliance  o'  know  nothin'  sharpers!  Thwart  their  schemes, 
with  me  and  yo'r  friends  an'  be  dead  agin  sich  blowed-up  pollyticks." 

It  is  unnecessary  to  record  more  of  this  oratorical  exposition,  and 
as  Chet  neglected  to  take  down  the  rest  of  the  Major's  similes,  "plain," 
or  local  talk,  his  provincialisms  contained  in  the  unrecorded  bulk  of  his 
address,  we'll  hop  over  it.  Suffice  to  mention  the  Major  ran  on  in 
the  strain  he  commenced  in,  then  wound  up  with  effusion,  greeted  again 
with  the  noisy  plaudits  of  his  hearers. 

The  announcer  once  more  rushed  forward,  tackled  the  water  pitcher 
(as  if  he  had  done  the  speech-making),  and  while  the  crowd  was  quiet 
ing  down,  announced  gravely  and  decorously: 


"CHBT,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER.         65 

"Yo'll  have  th'  honah  o'  hearin'  Squire  Peabody,  who'll  keep  th' 
ball  a  rollin'  smartly."  "Squire  Peabody!"  came  the  announcement 
thunderingly,  as  the  Squire  rose  stiffly,  with  a  drawn  smile,  and  crossed 
the  planks  in  measured  glides. 

The  Squire  loosened  his  joints  visibly,  as  he  reached  the  fore  part 
of  the  platform,  and  Chet  grasped  his  pencil  ready  to  follow  closely 
in  his  wake. 

"Public-spirited  citizens!"  came  in  a  strong  natural  tone,  and  the 
crowd  bristled  its  ears.  The  cited  remarks  are  narrowed,  but  suf 
ficient  to  depict  the  Squire's  temper: 

"Generally,  we  can  say  when  a  new  competitor  enters  the  field, 
'the  more,  the  merrier,'  but  the  axiom  is  left  to  oblivion  in  the  ongoing 
mayoralty  bubble. 

"We  have  before  us  a  heterogenous  combination  of  out-and-out 
rascals  of  varying  types,  capabilities  and  degrees,  struggling  with 
might  and  main  to  capture  the  prize  and  spoils  of  power— oflice— not 
the  honah  of  elevation  to  representation  of  the  people. 

"Will  yo'  allow  these  would-be  political  tyrants,  despots,  to  supplant 
a  municipal  government  that  has  always  been  gentle  in  authority  and 
stern  in  justice? 

"Will  yo'  vote  in  these  jugglers  o'  law  and  right,  have  humbuggery, 
pertinently  handled  by  big-bug  humbugs,  the  sole  art  of  yo'r  wielders 
of  municipal  might? 

"The  big  bugaboo  of  th'  faction  arrayed  against  us  is  a  most  un 
scrupulous  fellow,  who  is  meshed  in  the  marches  of  infamy.  He  is 
avowedly  against  the  weal  of  the  people.  His  sugar-coated  fly-catch 
ing  words  are  a  poor  covering  of  his  deceit  and  trickery. 

"This  intolerant,  blatant  'patriot,'  is  a  fit  leader  of  the  mass  of 
cranks,  soreheads  and  gamesters  at  his  back.  But  he  is  but  the  os 
tensible  head.  The  real  prime-mover  and  ram  (though  he  has  impro 
vised  the  nominal  leader  as  the  battering  ram)  is  a  verbose  and  chief 
pen-scratcher  of  the  insignificant  paper  of  this  city.  He  and  his  press 
are  a  disgrace  to  the  community,  and  should  be  blotted  out  forever, 
as  he  will  be.  And  if  any  of  his  representatives  are  heah,  will  they 
remember  to  report  my  words."  The  Squire  paused,  and  a  murmur 
came  from  the  crowd,  who  started  in  to  make  a  scrutiny  of  their 
neighbors,  and  Chet  put  on  a  front  of  tranquility,  though  inwardly 
fearing  a  rush  for  him,  but  his  fears  were  soon  allayed  by  the  Squire's 
quick  resumption  of  speech,  and  the  cessation  of  uneasiness  in  the 
crowd. 

The  Squire's  voice  fell  melodiously  on  Chefs  ear,  and  though  its 
key  was  In  variance  to  that  of  the  siren's  (and  Chet  had  heard  such 


66        "CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

a  fairy's  tones),  yet  it  seemed  like  one,  because  of  the  relief  that  per 
vaded  his  sould  and  the  ultra  atmosphere  as  it  knelled  forth.  The 
question  and  stir  caused  by  it,  had  knocked  the  wind  out  of  Chet,  and 
for  some  moments  both  his  brain  and  ready  hand  were  paralyzed. 
Still,  when  he  had  recovered  from  the  small-sized  shock,  he  decided 
not  to  put  more  of  the  Squire's  eloquence  in  black  and  white,  and  was 
in  sorry  doubt  whether  his  notices  so  far  would  be  acceptable  (and 
lie  later  found  that  except  that  Editor  Bosbyell  was  enabled  to  have 
the  opposition's  oral  efforts  under  his  eye  for  comment  and  criticism, 
they  never  reached  the  printer's  ink  of  the  Daily  Expounder),  but, 
notwithstanding,  his  was  not  ardent  labor  lost. 

The  Squire  confined  his  language,  and  soon  closed  amid  demon 
strative  approval  of  the  bystanding  crowd. 

Out  shot  the  lithe  announcer,  whom  Chet  had  learnt  from  commen 
taries  of  near-by  individuals,  to  be  Doctor  Felix  Seaborn,  as  one  worthy 
remarked,  "a  man  o'  science,  an'  if  that  bulgy  head  o'  his'n  cloant 
contain  brains,  I'm  soggy." 

The  erudite  scientist  announcer,  reaching  his  base  of  operations, 
the  table,  dexterously,  with  a  chain  lightning  movement,  poured  out 
some  of  his  evidently  life-instilling  liquid  and  drafted  it  with  gusto 
and  an  audible  succession  of  gulps. 

''Next  is  the  Honorable  M.  L.  S.  C.  Browne,  the  great  editor  of  the 
Citizen's  Outcry!  Another  suave  bow  and  will-o'-the-wisp  wave  and 
stiff  jerk,  bow,  and  the  "Hon.  M.  L.  S.  Browne,  stepped  forward  from 
his  seat,  all  eyes  of  his  colleagues  on  the  platform,  and  the  crowd  being 
fixedly  placed  upon  him. 

Chet  "sized"  him  up,  a  moderate-sized,  raw-boned,  bilious  individ 
ual,  with  pop-eyes,  but  he  carried  a  good  upper  head,  well  arched  nose, 
and  rounded  chin. 

His  large  mouth  opened  as  if  he  were  about  to  yawn,  but  words  in 
the  nick  of  time  seemed  to  come  to  the  rescue,  and  a  sound  palmed  off. 

Without  salutation,  this  personage  spoke  in  a  decidedly  cracked 
voice,  and  with  interpolated  wheezes,  his  vocal  chords  diciduously 
needed  tuning,  and  from  the  desperate  efforts  the  "Honorable"  gentle 
man  strove  forth  one  could  feel  certain  he  could  not  last  through  a 
boring  lot  of  speaking,  and  he  did  not,  although  he  held  on  as  tenacious 
ly  as  the  nine-lived  cat.  Devoid  of  breaks,  stoppages  and  coughs,  the 
following  might  be  submitted  to  the  eye  of  the  reader. 

"Re-voicing  the  sentiments  and  perception  of  the  gentleman  hold 
ing  this  post  before  me,  I  can  but  condemn  the  personages  that  head 
the  opposition,  and  who,  judging  from  their  mud-slinging  methods 
and  their  past  dastardly  crimes  against  their  fellow-men,  will  prove 
more  obnoxious,  more  loathsome,  if  they  reach  the  seat  of  power! 


"OHBT,"    A    SOUTHERN    NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  (57 

"The  styled  leader  and  header  of  the  organized  thieves  opposing  us, 
fighting  with  tongue  and  pocket  as  their  arms,  is  a  driveling  idiot,  eat 
ing  pie  on  a  barrel  of  gunpowder,  with  a  lighted  fuse  attached,  which 
will  cause  an  explosion  that  will  blow  him  and  his  abettors  to  atoms. 

"The  one  who  is  really  running  the  machine  of  manoeuvers,  while 
standing  in  the  guilty  dark,  as  my  noble  compatriot  has  announced, 
the  editor  of  the  besmirched,  scandal-mongering  sheet  of  this  city. 

"He  is  the  one  who  will  reap  the  lion's  share  of  all  gains,  rightfully 
or  ill-gotten;  he  is  the  captain  of  their  piratical  ship,  the  chief  of  their 
nefarious,  underhand  enterprises,  the  directory  of  their  wickedness, 
the  dictionary  of  their  thoughts,  the  cyclopedia  of  their  actions. 

"The  desire  of  this  culpable  man  for  aggrandizement  has  impelled 
us  to  set  forth  these  facts  to  dissuade  our  guileless  citizens  from  en 
tertaining  his  puppet  as  a  candidate  for  an  office  it  is  more  than  hazard 
ous  to  allow  him  to  undertake,  branded  villain  under  the  cohorts  of 
a  worse,  more  pronounced  one,  can  only  misuse  the  public  trust. 

"Do  not  allow  this  cat's  paw  and  his  kith  to  make  your  untainted 
city  politics,  and  ravage  all  that  you  have  built  and  stored  up! 

"Bind  him  and  his  dastardly  fellows  in  ropes  inflexible  by  vetoing 
their  extravagant  hopes  of  political  power,  by  yo'  sacred  votes!" 

At  this  juncture  the  speaker's  voice  deserted  him  (which  fact 
noted— for  he  rightly  supposed  that  Bosbyell  would  use  the  fact  in 
a  pricking  way  among  his  editorial  of  the  next  day). 

Because  of  this  vocal  failure,  the  Hon.  Browne  made  a  bow,  and 
cut  his  phlegmatic  speech  to  an  end.  He  was  cheered  vociferously, 
but  every  supporter  present  felt  the  unavoidable  abbreviating  of  what 
would  have  been  a  fiery,  inspiriting  speech. 

Colonel  Sallwell  and  Captain  du  Gane  followed  in  turn  with  their 
oratory,  but  localism  and  personal  aspersions  flung  at  Graham's  "wah 
record"  constituted  what  they  said  in  main  and  Chet  decided  to  rest 
for  the  finale  of  the  speechifying,  when  Colonel  Varnaby  would  make 
the  great  oratorical  effort  of  the  evening. 

Dr.  Seaborn,  the  announcer,  rushed  forward,  swathed  in  perspira 
tion,  making  a  rush  for  the  monopolized  pitcher,  and  added  a  few 
more  gulps  to  his  reservoir  (he  had  tackled  the  vessel  between  the 
two  previous  intermissions  of  speech). 

"Our  friend,  benefactor  and  candidate,  Colonel  Marius  C.  Varnaby," 
announced  the  doctor,  with  depthful  gravity. 

The  luminary  of  the  evening  came  forth  with  a  most  methodic 
tread,  that  came  with  regular  tramp  on  the  planked  platform. 

This  man  of  soldierly  bearing  halted  as  if  some  invisible  and  in 
audible  voice  had  given  the  command. 


68  "CHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

The  crowd  watched  this  martial  being,  to  many  of  whom  he  seemed 
supernatural,  and  he  sternly  gave  them  a  general's  gaze,  and  then  made 
a  half  inclinated  nod  as  an  acknowledgment  of  their  presence. 

He  looked,  to  Chet,  to  be  well  on  the  forties,  if  he  had  not  already 
reached  the  half  century  mark.  He  was  broad  shouldered,  and  a 
physique  naturally  majestic,  and  which  had  been  cultivated  by  his 
military  connection.  His  face  was  prepossessing,  but  had  common 
flaws  of  all  humanity,  which  any  reader  of  faces  would  denote. 

He  opened  his  long-slitted,  thin-lipped  mouth  with  marked  delib 
eration,  but  his  words  tripped  out  quickly,  yet  clearly. 

"There  is  an  old  and  trite  aphorism,  'United  we  stand,  divided  we 
fall.'  In  it,  it  is  acknowledged,  all  the  discretion,  strategy  and  valor 
of  partyism  and  partisanship  is  contained. 

"Men,  I  do  not  untruthfully  flatter  our  alliance  by  saying  that  we 
stand  thus.  We  are  united  and  standing  to  repulse  the  already  with 
ering  enemy  with  our  honest  ballot  blasts. 

"The  rancid  friends  of  obsequious  Graham  are  already  finding 
their  iron  corroding,  and  the  rust  covering  their  persons.  The  puerile 
apology  for  a  man,  with  his  ebullitions,  is  a  spectacle  of  humiliation 
to  honest  friends,  who  perceive  the  quaking  surrounding  him. 

"He  is  surrounded  by  a  court  of  over-confident  jesters,  and  blind- 
eyed  prophets.  One  of  these  sturdily  paints  himself  a  mortal  of  amaz 
ing  phophetic  instinct,  but  I  surmise  that  he  will  profit  by  wiping  the 
ink  from  his  arid  pen. 

"This  personage  referred  to  is  the  one  denounced  by  other  previous 
speakers.  His  written  anarchy  of  sentiment  and  purpose  only  excite 
the  brainless  and  avaricious,  confound  the  semi-fools  and  disgust  the 
thoughtful  and  practical. 

"We  would  keep  yo'  out  of  the  thraldom  these  monsters  of  iniquity 
would  establish  and  perpetuate,  if  the  reins  of  government  fell  into 
their  horny  hands.  We  will  bind  yo'  to  the  mast  of  safety  in  this  turbu 
lent  sea  of  opposition  to  political  cleanliness  and  equity.  Give  yo'r 
hand  and  receive  help. 

"As  soon  as  I  was  put  forward  as  a  candidate,  the  scoundrels  com 
posing  the  opposition  knew  they  could  not  work  their  ends  with  me 
and  commenced  to  look  another  man  to  bolster  up  against  me. 

"In  their  inspection  they  found  all  fair-brained  men  unwilling 
to  fall  into  their  rasping  claws,  but  they  at  last  hit  on  a  miserable 
puppy  who  has  long  deigned  to  place  himself  on  my  level  and  to  force 
himself  on  the  community  by  announcing  himself  as  a  candidate  for 
political  honors. 

"Honors!     Little  would  this  ill-bred  puppy  consider  a  position  of 


"CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  69 

trust  an  honor.  He  would  use  his  power  and  influence  only  to  gain 
riches  and  forget  the  interests  of  the  people  who  elected  him.  He 
would  prove  a  veritable  scorpion,  and  like  that  poisonous  insect  he 
would  not  only  inflict  a  poisonous  bite,  but  would  leave  a  track  of 
his  infamy  behind. 

"Now  comes  the  question,  will  yo'  elect  this  poltroon,  this  base 
fraud,  this  political  debaucher,  who  is  piloted  by  a  contemptible  tra- 
ducer  of  all  righteous  men,  who  edits  a  so-termed  reform  paper,  but 
which  is  in  reality,  the  dirtiest,  mangiest  sheet  anyone  would  come 
across,  if  he  travels  from  pole  to  pole. 

"Will  yo'  elect  such  a  personification  of  baseness?  Will  yo'  elect 
the  tool  of  a  man  that  attacks  all  honest,  God-fearing  men,  and  who 
attempts  by  a  bold  front  to  force  his  abominable  self  upon  yo'  ? 

"I  ask  yo'  in  justice  to  yo'rselves,  in  justice  to  the  community  at 
large,  in  justice  to  unborn  thousands,  to  show  your  antipathy  to  this 
contaminated  being  and  others  of  his  ilk,  by  turning  him  down  at  the 
polls. 

"Show  the  outside  world  that  none  but  men  of  honor,  of  eminence, 
of  repute  can  hold  your  exalted  positions,  and  that  such  reptiles, 
such  callous  villains  as  Graham  represents,  must  expect  to  meet  a  po 
litical  death  at  the  polls." 

The  pristine  calmness  of  the  open-mouthed,  bated-breathed  crowd 
was  pitched  at  a  heat  beyond  the  thermometer,  and  pandemonium 
held  sway,  as  the  Colonel  concluded  his  terse  speech. 

Chet  immediately  started  to  get  out  of  the  grove,  knowing  that 
except  for  a  carousal  and  extenuation  and  the  completion  of  the  'cue, 
that  all  the  orators  of  note  would  retain  their  wind.  Possibly  a  few 
would-be  political  lights  would  fire  off  a  few  shaky  impromptu  speeches, 
but  Chet  had  pressed  enough  into  his  weary  note-book,  and  did  not  de 
sire  to  wear  himself  and  pencil  out  on  reporting  the  trash  of  such  weak 
speakers  as  "Mr."  Quinne  and  his  kind  (as  he  comprehensively  graded 
them). 

Clear  of  the  grove,  he  struck  out  for  home,  and  soon  heard  a 
"halloo"  in  his  rear,  carelessly  turning  his  head,  he  saw  "Dig"  coming 
along  after  him  at  a  dog-trot. 

"Hoi'  on,  'taint  no  use  hurryin',"  came  the  breathless  remark  from 
"Dig,"  as  he  closed  up  with  Ghet. 

"No,"  smilingly  rejoined  Chet,  "don't  know  as  there  is,  but  I  want 
to  get  out  of  that  verbal  dynamite,  and  those  madcap  fellows  down 
there." 

"Ugh!"  grunted  "Dig,"  stopping  by  Chefs  side,  swabbing  his  flushed 
face,  and  then  continuing,  pantingly,  "Old  Nick,  himself,  would  have 


70        "CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

sent  his  favorite  ogre  for  a  fan,  if  he'd  been  crammed  up  on  that  dirt- 
stuck,  tobacco-mucked  crowd,  like  I've  been." 

"I  wasn't  as  unfortunate  as  that,  old  chap,"  said  Chet,  as  they 
trudged  along  together.  "I  wasn't  encumbered  or  hampered  by  the 
crowd,  but  I  got  the  essence  of  them,  and  the  aroma,  with  that  ad 
mixture  of  fiery  scathing  speech,  doled  out  by  that  array  of  orators, 
knocked  me  up.  By  jove!  Those  fellows  looked  dangerous  with  their 
wild  looks,  and  I  know  they  carried  a  plentiful  supply  of  arms." 

"Yes,  th'  crowd  of  gabbers  they  had  was  enough  to  send  a  body  o' 
sense  plum  'stracted,  but  those  crazy  fools  with  guns  weren't  danger 
ous,  Chet,"  replied  "Dig,"  depreciatingly. 

"Well,  in  England,  all  fellows  learn  boxing  proficiently,  and  the  use 
of  good  fists,  I  esteem  a  better  medium  than  revolvers,  shotguns  and 
bowie  knives." 

"Yes,  but  yo'  see  th'  weapons  act  as  a  sort  of  tonic  on  bad  feelings, 
an'  we  must  hev  tonics  In  hot  climates." 

"Yes,  but  I  thought  your  Southern  mode  of  speech,  when  you  are 
out  of  sorts  was  bitters  enough." 

Both  laughed  heartily  at  this  jocular  hit,  and  "Dig"  said:  "Yo're 
right,  Chet,  I  reckon." 

"Say,  said  Chet,  with  abruptness,  "you  must  be  a  good  mathema 
ticians."  '^'IIT*!!^! 

"Why?"  Innocently  asked  "Dig." 

"Because  you're  always  reckoning,  don't  you  know." 

"Dig"  saw  the  point,  and  smiled  sickly,  but  quickly  answered: 

"Yo'  don't  seem  to  think  us  good  teachers,  though." 

"Why?"  puzzledly  asked  Chet,  in  turn. 

"  'Cause,  yo'r  allus  askin'  'don't  yo'  know,' "  and  "Dig"  laughed 
a  whooping  laugh,  as  he  planted  this  retaliating  rib-roaster,  which 
made  Chet  join  with  him,  but  decidely  less  vociferously. 

The  punning  ended,  and  at  last  the  friends  separated,  making  ai 
bee-line  for  their  respective  homes  and  their  sanctified  couches. 


CHAPTER  VH, 


NEWS  AND  EVENTS  OF  THE  NEXT  DAY. 

Chet  reached  the  office  in  proper  shape  and  at  an  early  hour  the 
following  morning,  but  Bosbyell  had  preceded  him  some  time,  and 
was  working  at  a  race  horse  lick,  seventy  strokes  to  the  minute  with 
his  enchanted  stub  pen. 

He  was  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  as  he  always  was  when  doing  "sweat 
ing  writin'."  "Dig"  was  diving  into  boxes  of  papers,  and  was  chew 
ing  the  poetic  but  empty-airy  cud  of  reflection,  over  a  long  stretch  of 
half  rolled  papers. 

Chet  noiselessly  bounded  over  to  Bosbyell's  desk  with  alacrity, 
and  as  silently  laid  his  note  book  upon  it.  Bosbyell  sort  of  wake  up 
to  his  surroundings  as  Chet  did  this,  and  after  blinking  his  eyes  a 
few  seconds  and  stretching  the  muscles  of  his  face,  he  broke  forth 
half  aloud,  and  more  as  if  he  were  addressing  himself,  "Here  with 
your  reports.  Let  me  run  over  them."  Suiting  the  action  to  the  word, 
he  snatched  up  the  book  and  perused  its  contents  sharply. 

Tiny  winks,  side-tracked  exclamations  came  from  his  lips  as  his 
eyes  traveled  on  over  the  sheets.  Then  he  ran  off  his  monotone  ejacu 
lations  into  depthful  reading,  and  after  completing  his  examination 
of  the  sheets,  he  fell  into  greater  abstracted  thinking. 

"Phew!"  came  at  last  a  loud  intended-to-be-heard  outburst.  "These 
pages,  Chet,  are  saturated  with  absolute  sordid  rot.  They're  one  co 
agulated  clot  of  vituperations." 

Noticing  a  troublous  cast  overspreading  Chefs  face,  at  what  he 
thought  light  censurism  of  a  poor  lot  of  work,  Bosbyell  went  on  re 
assuringly,  "But  yo'  were  immaculately  right  to  bring  this  in."  Chet 
breathed  gladsomely. 

"How  did  your  'cue  prosper?"  asked  Chet  facetiously. 

"Up  to  expectations,  if  not  beyond.  We'll  own  everything  yet," 
answered  the  editor,  with  a  slight  air  of  braggadocio. 

"Glad  to  hear  it.  And  though  I've  been  out  of  the  whirlpool,  I 
wish  you  the  best  of  luck,  and  that  your  boat  don't  get  swamped." 

The  editor  pulled  out  a  drawer,  tumbled  out  of  it  some  clasped 

71 


72  "CHBT,"   A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER   REPORTER. 

papers,  tossed  them  around,  and  selected  from  them  a  fastened  set, 
of  brown  colored  sheets,  and  then  handed  them  across  to  Chet. 

"Read  that  speech  o'  mine,  yo'  see  if  I  didn't  hit  the  nail,  and 
smash  the  other  fellow's  fingers,  at  the  same  identical  time,"  said 
Editor  Bosbyell. 

Bosbyell  returned  to  labor  and  Chet  set  off  reading  the  speech, 
which  ran: 

"Men  of  Zodgeton.  Colonel  Varnaby,  the  shoddy  tin-horn  aspirant 
for  the  mayoralty  honors,  considers  our  friend— also  an  aspirant— as 
having  disregarded  all  unwritten  laws  of  society  in  presuming  to 
place  himself  on  his  level!  I  would  like  the  Colonel  to  know  that  I 
consider  him  so  far  beneath  our  candidate,  and  every  honest  Demo 
cratic  man,  for  that  matter,  that  if  I  had  the  alternative  of  stepping 
into  knee-deep  mud  or  on  his  vitiated  carcass,  I  would  prefer  mud. 
A  thousand  times,  mud! 

''This  aristocratic  popinjay,  who  has  received  whatever  prestige 
he  commands,  by  awing  the  multitude  by  his  pomposity  (and  a  great 
part  of  us  refuse  to  be  awed),  expects  to  sweep  us  out  in  the  coming 
fight,  but  he  will  soon  realize  his  hallucination,  and  his  loathsome 
confederates,  who  think  they  command  the  situation,  will  sneak  into 
quietude  from  their  bullying  foundation. 

"My  condensed  opinion  of  Varnaby  is  that  his  is  of  the  brotherhood 
of  those  highly  prized  and  cultured  animals,  the  asses. 

"There  is  an  incident  described  in  the  Inspired  Book,  that  fits  to  a 
nicety  as  a  simile  to  the  mooted  situation,  it  is  the  story  of  Samson 
and  the  Philistines. 

"The  great  thewed  Samson  being  attacked  by  the  Philistines,  and 
having  no  weapon  at  hand,  seized  upon  the  jawbone  of  an  ass,  and 
with  mighty  blows  dashed  out  the  brains  of  his  desperate  foes. 

"To  form  the  simile,  that  this  campaign  presents,  I  would  liken 
Colonel  Graham  to  the  mighty  Samson,  and  then  compare  Varnaby's 
backers  to  the  Philistines,  placing  Varnaby,  himself,  as  the  skeleton 
of  the  ass,  whose  jaw  bone  Samson  used  as  his  weapon. 

"Varnaby's  jaw  bone,  which  emits  the  volumes  of  quixotic  words 
that  he  and  his  friends  term  speeches,  are  our  surest  weapons  of  de 
fense,  and  our  ultimate  victory  is  assured. 

"When  it  comes  to  the  point  of  decision,  I  can  safely  say  it  is  far 
worse  to  have  an  ass  than  a  scoundrel  in  office  for  the  scoundrel  would 
at  least  try  to  cover  his  tracks  and  from  fear  of  detection  and  pun 
ishment  would  be  deterred  from  open  rascality,  while  an  ass  would 
be  liable  to  be  under  the  thumb  of  rascals  shrewd  and  smart,  who 
would  let  him  run  the  risk  unknowingly  of  falling  under  the  ban 


"CHET,"    A    SOUTHERN    NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  78 

(while  they  thrust  into  the  caves  of  treasure  no  rascal  would  dare 
to  openly  penetrate.) 

"The  Varnaby  crowd  orators  have  tacked  up  word  pictures  of  the 
disasters  our  seating  in  office  would  entail,  but  their  pessimistic  warn 
ings  are  in  positive  contrast  with  their  optimistic  word  painting  of  the 
prosperity  that  will  be  brought  forward  by  their  success.  With  that 
man,  that  I  have  accused  of  being  an  ass,  only  an  ass  nothing  more 
or  less,  in  nominal  power,  you  would  soon  discover  what  nourishment 
would  accrue  to  your  commonwealth. 

''The  dissolute,  uncouth  opponent  of  our  honorable  gentleman  of 
sterling  worth  Colonel  Jefferson  Hadry  Graham,  is  flattered  by  his 
nomadic  forces  with  historic  Marc  Antony's  appellation,  'the  noblest 
Roman  of  them  all,'  which  they  parade  upon  their  banners,  in  glaring 
inscriptions,  as  well  as  in  their  splurging,  ineloquent  oratorical  effects, 
because  the  pampered  figure-head  that  they  hold  up  for  public  appro 
bation  is  gilded  with  a  non-plebeian  name,  romantically  culled  from 
those  of  the  old  Roman  heroes,  whom  this  personage  disgraces  as  a 
namesake. 

"The  prominent  factor  in  ancient  history,  ruined  in  name  is  the 
celebrated  Marius  Cassius,  who  has  undoubtedly  had  many  fits  in 
his  grave,  caused  by  the  reckless  parental  baptismal  selection  for 
this  pedantic  fossil,  Colonel  Marius  Cassius  Varnaby. 

"Now,  boys,  tap  the  liquor,  tackle  the  'cue,  and  digest  both  my 
words  and  the  spread  at  the  same  time." 

"I  tell  you,"  said  Chet  after  short  contemplation,  "that  is  a  cutting, 
sanguine  speech.  I  would  have  given  anything  to  have  heard  your 
delivery." 

Bosbyell  beamed  with  gratification,  as  Chet  said  this  and  returned 
the  papers. 

"Did  Squire  Yorde  and  Captain  Ogdane  speak?"  asked  Chet. 

'•Yes,  indeed.  Th'  Capt'n  went  off  with  a  long  end  of  the  honors 
and  th'  Squire  made  a  sumptuous,  long-winded  speech." 

"I  conjectured  that  the  Squire  would  address  windedly,"  pointedly 
said  Chet,  of  the  monstrous  Squire,  and  Bosbyell  appreciated  it. 
********* 

The  work  that  had  piled  up  for  the  staff  of  the  Expounder  was 
nearly  mountainous,  and  all  pitched  in  like  zealots. 

The  nominating  convention  met  in  due  time,  and,  after  a  stormy 
session,  Colonel  Varnaby  was  defeated  by  a  tight  squeeze,  and  the 
Graham  faction,  shaved  through  on  everything,  and  therefore  there 
was  joy  in  the  camp  of  the  Expounder,  and  correspondingly  the  Outcry 
people  were  downcast  at  their  protege,  Varnaby's  downfall,  with  his 
standbys. 


74         "CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

Bad  blood  had  been  stirred  up  by  the  campaign  of  the  factious, 
but  none  had  been  spilt,  and  diet  was  not  grieved  that  bloodshed  had 
been  averted.  But  it  is  never  too  late  to  do  anything,  and  so  it  proved. 

Two  weeks  after  the  nomination  of  Colonel  J.  H.  Graham,  the 
"staff"  of  the  Expounder  were  occupied  and  perspiring  over  routine 
work,  but  the  editor  had  grown  listless,  and  was  busy  drawing  shaky 
designs,  etc.,  as  Chet  crossed  over  with  a  paper  to  discuss  it  with  him. 

"What  on  earth  are  those  Chinese  drawings?"  quizzed  Chet,  be 
fore  he  commenced. 

"Them,"  said  the  editor,  pointing  to  them  with  the  back  of  his 
pen.  "They're  they're,  well — er,  I  call  'em  nothin's,"  he  said,  rather 
desperately  and  ironically. 

"You  don't ."  At  this  be  was  interrupted  by  the  clang  of  the 

town  fire  bell. 

"Hello!  What's  that?"  came  from  the  editor,  who  sprang  to  the 
window,  threw  open  the  sash,  and  poked  his  head  far  out. 

"Thunder!  Boys!  The  Outcry  building  is  on  fire,"  the  editor  an 
nounced  most  startlingly. 

A  precipitate  rush  was  made  by  the  "staff"  down  to  the  place 
of  flames.  The  town  was  out  in  force,  and  the  old  worn  engine,  hose 
apparatus,  ladders  and  the  rest  of  the  paraphernalia  of  the  town  "fire 
department''  was  rushed  to  the  scene,  the  men  of  the  town  assisting 
the  fire  brigade. 

Counseled  by  Bosbyell,  the  members  of  the  Expounder  refrained 
from  running  in  with  the  rest. 

"Yo'll  only  provoke  a  quar'll,  if  yo'  get  mixed  up  with  those  hot 
headed  fellers,  they're  nearly  fiends,  now  that  they  see  their  property 
in  smoke." 

So,  against  their  impulses  they  followed  the  instinct,  or,  rather, 
the  knowledge  of  the  editor  to  avoid  trouble. 

The  fire,  under  a  little  breeze  that  found  it,  gained  headway,  de 
spite  all  measures  of  prevention,  and  as  the  wood,  sun-dried,  the  struc 
ture  kept  on  like  a  tinder-box  until  its  ashes  marked  its  site. 

"That  settles  that  blabber  Browne  for  a  while,  anyway,"  satisfiedly 
and  cruelly  coolly,  Chet  thought,  as  they  retired  from  the  ruined  spot. 

Excitement  was  all  over  the  town,  and  all  tongues  were  agog 
about  the  fire.  Canards  of  all  kinds  soared  through  the  air.  Terrible 
stories,  mysterious  plots,  were  conjured  up,  as  having  caused  the  loss 
of  the  Outcry  Building. 

Bosbyell  declared  that  he  scented  trouble,  and  as  a  precaution,  left 
three  employes  to  watch  and  guard  the  building  during  the  night, 
and  furthermore  asked  if  all  were  armed.  Chet  was  not. 


AN  ALARM    OF   FIRE— "THE    DAILY    OUTCRY"    OFFICE  IN    FLAMES.     DISCOVERY  MADE 
BY   "THE  DAILY  EXPOUNDER'S"  FORCE  FROM  THE  WINDOW. 


75 


76  "CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

"Look  a'  here,  Chet,  yo'd  better  carry  this  little  trusty,"  he  said, 
seriously,  opening  a  drawer,  displaying  a  shining  revolver.  "I  carry 
'em,  an'  yo'  may  be  sure  I  won't  commit  suicide  by  not  drawin'  quickly 
enough,  If  I  have  to." 

He  took  a  good-sized  revolver  from  each  hip  pocket,  and  later  a 
smaller  one  from  his  vest  pocket. 

"I  won't  plunge  into  powder,  my  dear  sir,  for  any  slight  provoca 
tion,  but  I'll  defend  myself,  with  nature's  weapons  to  the  last  extrem 
ity,"  sturdily  replied  Chet,  scoffing  at  the  idea  of  carrying  firearms. 

A  half  sneering  look  was  penciled  on  Bosbyell's  face,  but  it  was 
but  momentary,  being  evicted,  and  a  cast  of  pity  succeeding  it. 

"lo're  yo'r  own  boss,  Chet.  But  yo'  aren't  keerin'  fo'  healthy 
advice,"  was  the  solitary  comment  of  the  editor. 

Chet  was  level-headed  in  refusing,  so  his  uncle  afterward  told 
him,  and  as  he  was  never  singly  molested  or  insulted,  he  also  con 
cluded  hit  reply  a  piece  of  horse  sense. 

The  next  day  an  uneasy  calmness  was  felt  in  the  busily  engaged 
Expounder  office.  The  editor  was  positive  trouble  was  brewing,  and 
he  and  his  "fightin' "  assistants  had  their  "guns"  close  by  and  their 
sight,  roving  though  it  might  be,  pounced  upon  them  at  every  stray 
breathing  spell  from  work. 

Gathered  in  the  office  was  the  editor  at  his  desk,  Mark  Bosbyell, 
the  associate  editor  at  his  desk,  "Dig"  and  Chet  at  their  double  desk, 
in  the  far  part  of  the  room,  a  sort  of  annex. 

The  buzz  of  the  flies  alone  disturbed  the  stillness,  and  bothered 
the  inditers.  But  soon  came  a  more  pronounced  breakage.  From  the 
hallway,  came  the  muffled  noises  of  footsteps  and  persons  shuffling 
up  the  stairs. 

The  editor  leaped  to  the  door  and  slammed  it  open,  he  fell  back 
a  few  steps  and  cried  out  the  alarm,  "They're  here." 

All  made  a  clench  for  their  pistols  and  waited.  Chet  refusing 
"Dig's"  proffered  pea-shooter,  and  remaining  "gunless,"  to  "Dig's" 
chagrin. 

"Yes,  we're  heah,"  came  a  stentorian  voice  from  the  hallway. 

"Yo'  bet — "  came  another  voice,  which  chopped  itself  off. 

This  was  followed  by  a  bodily  intrusion  of  several  men  headed  by 
Browne  of  the  Outcry— all  with  revolvers  in  their  hands. 

Bosbyell's  brow  darkened,  and  his  lower  lip  slightly  quivered  with 

rage,  as  he  ordered  fiercely,  "Pack  out  o'  heah,  or  I'll  bore  yo'  by " 

He  raised  his  revolver  for  action. 

"The  presumption,"  snorted  Browne,  "of  yo'— yo'  snarling  poodle." 

They  glowered  at  each  other  like  gladiators,  when  Browne  sneer- 
ingly  said,  "I've  a  mind  to  expectorate  in  yo'r  face." 


CLASH  IN    "rHE    DAILY    EXPOUNDER11    OFFICE  BETWEEN  THAT  STAFF    AND  THOSE  OF 
''THE  DAIL.Y  O0TCRY",   WHO  CAME  IN  FOR  A  ROW. 


77 


78  "CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER. 

This  was  an  irritant  that  caused  a  non-churchgoer's  swearing  affray 
that  would  make  the  mild  curser's  hair  lift  itself  with  astonishment, 
the  equi-balanced  individual's  head-covering  would  simply  turn  af 
frighted  somersaults  (as  Chefs  was). 

After  exhausing  the  vocabulary  of  blasphemy,  the  lips,  that  had 
poured  forth  these  irreconcilable  volleys  of  abuse  now  urged  fight, 
not  by  oaths,  but  by  accusation  and  twitting. 

"Yo'  cringing  adder  yo'  know  full  well  yo'  fired  the  Outcry  build 
ing,"  came  from  the  now  nearly  insane  ex-editor  of  that  lost  paper. 

"Yo'  skunk  of  skunks,  yo'  know  yo'  did  the  trick,  yo'self.  Yo're 
a  firebug.  Yo'  know  yo've  committed  arson,  an'  are  tryin'  to  smirch 
an  honest  man  with  yo're  incendiarism,"  screeched  forth  the  enraged 
Bosbyell. 

Browne  madly  and  hoarsely  cried:  "I'll  blow  the  wind  out  o'  yo', 
yo'  cowardly  booby!"  On  the  last  word,  all  guns  up,  and  bang!  bang! 
whang!  was  the  order. 

The  din  was  terrific.  Chet,  transfixed  with  horror,  crouched  behind 
a  pillar.  Men  rushed  forward,  over  chairs  and  tables,  knocking  and 
spilling  them  over  in  their  speed. 

Suddenly  came  the  sound  of  shots  and  imprecations  from  the  hall 
way,  and  foot  of  the  stairway.  Chet  guessed  that  the  friends  of  Bos 
byell  were  coming  to  his  rescue  from  without  and  within— that  the 
printers  from  their  work  rooms  were  the  inside  succor.  Chet  heard 
Bosbyell's  voice,  chokedly  call  out,  through  the  smoke  and  cries,  "Come 
on,  boys!"  A  charge  and  precipitate  retreat  in  the  midst  of  shots  and 
fire  betokened  the  withdrawing  of  the  assaulting  party. 

The  smoke  began  to  lift  and  solemnity  prevailed,  the  little  garri 
son's  bullets  being  spent,  reports  in  the  street  could  be  distinctly, 
though  after  the  just  past  uproar  and  blasting,  it  seemed  to  Chet, 
faintly  heard. 

Chefs  eye  caught  that  of  ferocious,  now  excessively  pallid  Browne, 
who  was  evidently  pain-maddened;  he  lay  sprawling  on  the  floor,  with 
one  arm  lying  helpless  and  limply.  His  clothes  were  torn  and  soiled, 
including  his  generally  immaculately  clean  shirt  front. 

Near  him  was  Bosbyell,  in  a  sitting  posture,  on  the  floor,  beside 
an  overturned  chair,  against  which  he  was  reclining  heavily,  with 
a  suppressed  pained  expression,  his  countenance  being  lobsterly  red, 
and  his  eyes  dilating  fiercely  and  spitting  fire  at  Browne.  Bosbyell 
was  tightly  clinching  his  right  arm,  which  hung  helpless,  limp,  by 
his  side,  blood  streaming  in  rivulets  from  four  shot  holes  in  it.  From 
his  leg  was  another  stream,  coming  from  a  wound  in  the  calf,  and 
which  was  running  down  his  trouser  leg.  His  coat  was  ripped  up  the 


"CHET,"    A   SOUTHERN   NEWSPAPER    REPORTER.  79 

back,  and  ink  was  coursing  down  its  front.  It  was  inexplicable  how 
the  ink  bottle  at  his  feet  reached  him.  Altogether,  he  was  a  gory  sight, 
and  Chet  felt  that  the  Expounder  would  be  editorless  for  a  time,  un 
less  someone  temporarily  discharged  his  duties. 

Over  in  the  corner  of  the  room  were  two  men  lying  across  each 
other,  groaning  distressedly,  both  hard  hit.  As  they  were  strangers 
to  Chet,  and  as  revolvers  lay  in  a  narrow  radius  of  them,  and  as  they 
were  undoubtedly  injured  in  the  little  pitched  battle,  they  must  be, 
he  reasoned,  friends  of  Browne  and  the  onslaughters. 

"Dig"  was  at  the  window,  having  an  excited  warlike  look,  and 
two  smoking  revolvers  in  his  hands.  He  did  not  seem  hurt. 

Poor  Mark  lay  across  his  desk  breathing  heavily  and  convulsively, 
catching  his  side  and  moaning  in  excruciating  agony. 

"Dig"  put  one  of  his  revolvered  hands  up  to  his  eyes,  as  if  to 
brush  a  hazy  mist  before  them  away,  and  then  attempted  to  dart  for 
ward,  but  toppled  over  weakly,  showing  he,  too,  had  been  hit.  Chet 
began  to  think  he  was  "reached"  also,  but  felt  himself  all  right,  and 
without  self-examination,  ran  to  his  disabled  friend's  aid. 

"I've  got  it  in  the  foot,  Chet.  Jest  clipped  me.  That's  all,"  he 
said,  quietly  and  brokenly.  Chet  assisted  him  up,  and  he  essayed 
walking,  which  he  succeeded  in  doing  with  a  limp.  As  he  tried  this 
feat  on  feet,  he  uttered  a  bitten-off  exclamation,  and  rubbed  his  arm, 
near  the  socket,  with  a  lightning  movement.  It  was  another  "clip." 

"Are  yo'  hurt,  Chet?"  he  was  not  unmindful  to  enquire. 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  so.  Nothing  serious  my  boy,  if  I  am.  But  these 
balls  chipped  parts  of  that  friendly  pillar  that  acted  as  my  armor, 
and  some  whizzed  through  my  clothes,"  showing  a  just  discovered 
rent  in  his  coat-sleeve,"  but  I  guess  my  permit  for  this  isn't  rescinded, 
yet,  my  dear  fellow.  Yo're  all  bunged  up,  don't  you  know,  though." 

"Oh,  no.     But  poor  Bosbyell  and  Mark  are." 

A  weak  voice,  that  of  Bosbyell's,  struck  their  ears. 

"Yes,  I'm  hit;  but  take  a  look  at  Mark,  won't  you,  Chet?" 

"Certainly,  sir,"  came  the  respectful  reply,  as  Chet  hopped  over  to 
Mark,  who  had  lost  consciousness. 

Mark  had  a  serious  wound  in  the  side,  and  one  in  the  foot.  Chet 
set  about  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  both  friend  and  foe.  He  un 
loosed  Mark's  jacket,  secured  willing  assistance  from  incoming  friends, 
and  set  about  restoring  the  young  man  to  his  senses,  at  the  same  time 
directing  the  men  to  look  after  the  rest,  including  the  maimed  Browne 
and  his  two  men. 

The  sheriff,  sawbones,  and  other  "healers,"  soon  got  on  the  ground, 
and  succeeded  in  making  life  miserable  for  the  anguished  men,  but 
they  came  out  of  the  ordeal  all  right. 


80        "CHET,"  A  SOUTHERN  NEWSPAPER  REPORTER. 

Mending  of  bodies  was  the  chief  industry  of  the  town,  but  mend- 
Ing  the  feelings  and  agnosticism  was  barred  out. 

Chet,  with  the  lame  assistance  of  "Dig"— lame  in  several  senses, 
as  he  could  not  work  steadily,  as  a  result  of  his  wounds,  and  their 
shock  to  his  nervous  system,  attended  successfully  to  a  daily  issue  of 
the  Expounder. 

But  after  some  time,  the  "staff"  was  in  working  order  again,  albeit 
that  Mark's  wounds  had  an  effect  upon  his  health,  but  it  was  set  at 
naught 

Browne,  the  fire-eater,  decided  to  take  to  a  new  clime,  and  went 
to  the  Carolinas,  but,  although  the  Outcry  has  reached  its  destiny, 
Colonel  Varnaby  and  his  friends  remain. 

Chet,  when  I  met  him  last  a  few  years  ago,  was  associate  editor 
of  the  Daily  Expounder,  with  old  Bosbyell  as  principal.  Mark  having 
died  of  consumption. 

Chet  seemed,  to  my  visage,  the  same  old  friend  I  had  known  in 
England,  but  a  little  more  advanced  in  years. 

He  had  discarded  "don't  you  know,"  for  "I  reckon,"  and  "you" 
for  "yo*  "  and  had  obtained  a  few  new,  and  lost  a  few  old  character 
istics,  in  keeping  with  his  surroundings. 

THE  END. 


CHATS  WITH  MY  FRIEND 
THE  BRAHMIN. 


NOTE. 

In  a  box,  where  valuable  curios,  mementos  and  presents  that  had  been 
gathered  from  the  four  corners  of  the  world  by  Mr.  John  Jack  and  his 
devoted  wife,  Annie  Firmin  Jack,  were  kept,  and  which  contained  among 
many  other  things  scrap  books,  valuable  correspondence,  etc.,  these  two 
precious  volumes  were  also  deposited  for  safe  keeping.  This  receptacle 
was  in  the  Merchants  House,  413  and  415  North  Third  street,  Philadelphia, 
and  was  stolen  from  said  premises,  or  said  to  be  ;  notwithstanding  all 
manner  of  efforts  through  the  police  and  detective  systems  and  news 
papers,  advertisements,  etc.,  were  made,  no  clue  was  ever  obtained  from 
the  missing  treasure,  so  that  the  dastardly  thief  or  thieves  must  have  cast 
these  precious  documents — to  at  least  two  persons — into  a  fire  as  so  much 
waste  paper,  This  villainous  crime  is  why  these  pages  contain  but  one 
volume  of  his  interesting  and  important  "Ghats  with  My  Friend  the 
Brahmin." 

HUGH  COYLB,  Compiler. 

81 


INTRODUCTION. 


Purushotam  Rao  Telang  was  our  guest  at  the  seaside  during  the 
summer  of  1894.  My  parents,  during  their  extended  sojourn,  and  trav 
els  in  the  Orient,  had  met  his  family  in  Bombay,  India,  and  had  formed 
a  very  pleasant  acquaintance;  consequently,  when  Mr.  Telang  called 
upon  us,  father  was  extremely  happy  to  renew  the  friendship,  and 
invited  him  to  our  cozy  little  summer  home,  that  had  been  fitted  up 
with  a  great  many  East  Indian  curios,  which  were  both  a  surprise 
and  a  pleasure  to  Mr.  Telang. 

All  through  the  summer,  we  were  constantly  talking  about  the 
East.  I  became  deeply  interested  in  the  subject,  and  conceived  the 
idea  of  writing  down,  and  thus  preserving  the  facts  that  I  elicited 
through  Telang's  conversations.  Telang  approved  heartily  of  the 
proposition;  so,  after  each  chat,  I  made  copious  notes.  Having  faith 
fully  written  them  up,  I  submit  them  to  the  reading  public,  feeling 
assured  that  the  chats  will,  in  many  respects,  open  their  eyes  to  the 
true  condition  of  India,  and  its  favorite  religion— Brahminism. 

It  may  be  well  to  state  here,  that  Telang  is  not  an  ordinary  Hindoo, 
but  a  man  well  educated  in  the  old,  native,  Brahmin,  priest  fashion, 
subsequently  learning  English  at  a  college  in  Bombay.  Besides  being 
a  natural  born  artist  and  musician,  he  has  acquired  an  extensive  knowl 
edge  of  the  important  sciences.  Judging  from  our  conversation  with 
him,  and  the  great  amount  of  knowledge  he  gave  abundant  evidence  of, 
he  must  have  thoroughly  grounded  himself  in  the  history  and  sociol 
ogy  of  the  entire  civilized  world.  He  spoke  English  fluently,  tersely 
and  eloquently,  in  the  most  choice,  graphic  language,  and  with  but  a 
slight  accent;  furthermore,  his  speech  was  made  extremely  quaint, 
and  charming  to  the  ear,  by  his  musical  voice,  and  Oriental  idioms. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write,  he  was  a  man  a.bout  forty-five, 
of  slim,  delicate  build,  but  possessed  of  a  quiet,  reserved  dignity  that 
immediately  arrested  the  attention  of  the  observer.  His  face  was 
nearly  always  placid,  but  ever  expressive;  his  forehead  broad  and 
high,  betokening  intelligence,  his  nose  large  and  well  shaped,  denoting 
practicability;  his  chin  firm,  and  determined;  under  long  curly  black 
lashes,  beneath  still  darker  eyebrows,  his  dark  eyes  beamed  forth  a 
bright,  kind,  cheery  look  that  lighted  up  his  otherwise  rather  sombre 
countenance;  his  mouth,  overcovered  by  a  raven  black  mustache, 

6  85 


86  CHATS   WITH  THE   BRAHMIN. 

was  well  formed  and  clear  cut,  when  slightly  drawn  revealing  a  set 
of  most  exquisitely  shaped  and  pearly  white  teeth.  In  short,  he  Is  a 
typical  representative  of  the  highly  educated  Hindoo  of  the  highest 
caste.  Gentleness,  kindliness  itself,  he  is  an  embodiment  of  true  po 
liteness;  not  possessed  of  the  superficial  fawning  and  suavity,  common 
to  the  low  class  of  Orientals.  It  was  no  wonder,  that  during  his  visit 
with  us,  we  became  greatly  attached  to  him. 

Telang  came  of  a  family  of  the  highest  social  status,  his  father  being 
a  revenue  officer  and  magistrate;  his  cousin,  who  recently  died,  was 
Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Bombay;  and  he,  himself,  was 
employed  in  the  service  of  the  British  Government,  though  his  early 
education,  and  caste,  fitted  him  for  the  Brahmin  priesthood. 

Telang  decided,  when  the  World's  Columbian  Exposition  was  about 
to  be  opened  in  Chicago,  to  come  to  the  United  States,  see  this  strange 
land,  form  material  and  individual  ideas  of  the  outside  world,  re 
turn  home,  and  use  his  knowledge  and  experience  for  the  welfare 
of  his  countrymen.  Surely  no  motive  could  be  purer  and  higher  in 
aim  than  this,  but  there  was  a  great  obstacle  in  his  path.  All  believers 
in  Brahminism  are  forbidden  to  leave  their  native  soil,  on  the  penalty 
of  being  ostracized  from  all  friends  and  relations  on  returning— not 
even  being  allowed  to  associate  with  the  lowest  castes  of  Hindoos, 
who  are  taught  to  look  upon  a  wanderer,  in  lands  beyond  the  sea, 
as  contaminated.  Fortunately,  modern  influence  and  the  liberal  ideas 
entertained  among  the  progressive  Brahmins  have,  in  some  degree, 
lessened  the  enormity  of  this  social  and  religious  offense.  So,  finally, 
Telang  and  a  friend,  although  firm  adherents  to  Brahminism,  deter 
mined  to  come  to  America,  being  willing  to  brave  social  ostracism, 
and  endure  any  penance  they  might  have  to  perform  on  their  return, 
so  long  as  they  might  accomplish  the  purpose  of  their  journey.  But, 
as  Telang  said  to  me,  in  spite  of  the  high  standing  of  his,  and  his 
friend's  family,  their  own  personal  record,  and  the  advanced  and  un 
sullied  object  of  their  mission,  the  old  orthodox  people  will  not  accept 
them  back  into  their  caste  upon  their  return;  therefore,  it  was  indeed 
a  noble  and  patriotic  sacrifice  for  their  country's  good. 

Telang  visited  the  World's  Columbian  Exposition  at  Chicago,  and 
then  went  to  San  Francisco,  California,  where  he  had  the  additional 
pleasure  of  witnessing  the  Mid-Winter  Exposition.  There  Teland  pro 
posed  a  Musical  Congress  of  the  World,  but,  on  account  of  prevailing 
unfavorable  circumstances  and  conditions,  he  was  unable  to  carry  out 
the  project  successfully.  However,  his  interviews  on  the  subject,  by 
the  representatives  of  the  leading  San  Francisco  papers,  rendered 
him  well  known  throughout  the  Pacific  Coast.  Notably  at  the  Stan- 


CHATS   WITH  THE   BRAHMIN.  87 

ford  University,  Palo  Alto,  California,  by  whose  President,  David  Starr 
Jordan,  he  was  highly  appreciated  and  endorsed. 

Telang  had  also  made  an  extensive  and  successful  lecturing  tour, 
from  which  he  was  resting  at  the  seashore. 

After  leaving  us  at  the  close  of  the  season,  he  went  to  New  York 
and  wrote  for  the  Forum,  and  then,  I  believe,  sailed  for  Europe  to  con 
tinue  his  observations. 

To  me  he  said  at  parting:  "Remember,  my  boy,  that  my  object, 
in  encouraging  you  to  gain  all  the  knowledge  you  can  about  India, 
is,  of  course,  for  your  own  mental  improvement,  but  most  of  all,  to  en 
able  you,  when  speaking  of  her,  to  speak  intelligently.  So  that  when 
you  hear  her  unjustly  abused,  as  she  so  often  is,  you  can  defend  her, 
and  I  expect  you  to  do  so  at  all  times. 

I  replied:  "Telang,  gratitude  alone,  for  the  useful  information 
you  have  given  me,  would  force  me  to  follow  out  your  wishes,  and 
as  you  have  enlisted  my  sympathy  in  every  way,  you  may  rest  as 
sured  that  I  am,  and  always  will  be,  ready  to  plead  and  defend  the 
cause  of  India." 

The  publishing  of  these  chats  is  the  first  step  in  fulfillment  of  the 
promise,  and  I  hope  and  trust  that  it  will  not  be  the  last;  it  shall  not 
be,  if  our  Creator  sees  fit  to  grant  me  those  precious  boons,  health 
and  strength  to  continue  in  the  course. 


CHAT  L 

TELANG  DISCOURSES  ON  CONQUERORS. 

"Although,  while  in  India,  I  had  noted  the  energy  of  foreigners, 
which  far  surpasses  us,  yet  when  I  arrived  in  this  country,  I  was  be 
wildered  beyond  measure  with  the  bustle  and  noise  of  your  cities. 

"The  English  are  an  energetic  race,  but,  without  any  flattery,  you 
Americans  must  be  graded  away  ahead  of  them  as  'hustlers.' 

"Energy  is  indeed  a  great  characteristic;  the  possession  of  it  made 
the  English  speaking  people  first  in  power,  progress,  and  nearly 
everything;  the  want  of  it  has  made  India,  and  the  Hindoo  race  de 
generate  to  their  present  state.  But  you  have  had,  have,  and  no 
doujbt,  always  will  have,  existing  conditions  that  must  keep  you  on  your 
excellent  footing;  you  have  a  rugged  life  inspiring  climate,  and,  great 
est  of  all,  you  Americans,  of  these  United  States,  have  succeeded 
in  establishing  on  a  firm  basis,  a  republic  with  all  that  its  name  im 
plies.  These  facts  you  all  correctly  declare,  have  placed  you  first 
as  an  unspotted,  unrestrained  nation.  Other  powers  of  the  New 
and  Old  world,  have  attained  liberty  to  a  large  degree,  but  none  can 
truthfully  rank  with  you  as  a  totally  democratic  government. 

"All  the  potent  and  solid  nations,  have  been  created  in  vigorous 
climates,  peopled  by  energetic  races,  who  have  thriven  under  free 
forms  of  government.  But  in  what  comparatively  few  parts  of  this  uni 
verse  does  one  find  these  essential  qualities  centered.  The  lack  of  these 
indispensable  possessions  has  made  dear  old  India,  though  rich  in 
land  and  numerical  strength,  the  puny,  pitied  nation  she  is.  Pitied, 
the  word  darts  through  me  like  a  spear,  and  cuts  me  to  the  quick. 
To  think  that  such  a  grand  country  should  occupy  such  an  abominable 
position,  which  places  her  entirely  at  the  mercy,  or  nearly  so,  of  the 
scoffer  and  defamer;  this  beautiful  division  of  the  globe  that  should 
be  a  perpetual  paradise,  but  has  been  so  frequently  devastated  and 
ruined  agriculturally  and  financially,  by  ravishing  hordes,  and  na 
tions,  that  now  she  is  reduced  to  her  present  straits,  a  mere  skeleton 
of  the  far  distant  past.  But,  to  my  own  mind,  majestic,  august,  as  she 
has  been  in  her  day,  ranking  first  in  everything,  she  will  yet  redeem 
herself  and  place  her  people  on  the  rock  of  substantiality. 

"We,  as  a  race,  cannot  hope  to  possess  the  energy  of  the  Western 
nations.  A  people  living  in  a  land  of  intense  heat,  and  having  an 


GHATS   WITH   THE   BRAHMIN.  89 

ofttime  malignant  climate,  can  hardly  expect  to  have  or  to  acquire  the 
wonderful,  untiring  quickness,  indefatigable  perseverance,  and  tenacity 
in  physical  labor  that  you  have.  But,  although  our  climate  is  enervat 
ing  in  the  extreme,  many  of  us  are  endowed  with  that  virtue,  mental 
energy,  and  this  fact  will,  in  time,  accomplish  the  redemption  of  India. 

"There  have  been  illustrious  minds  in  my  natal  country.  Both  her 
sons  and  her  daughters  have  achieved  great  deeds,  but  of  what  short 
benefit  to  the  people,  and  how  few,  and  far  between  as  you  have  it,  have 
they  mostly  been.  This  has  been  due  to  the  gross  ignorance,  cruelty 
and  despotism  of  her  conquerors,  who  have  been  many,  and  who  have 
nearly  always  ruled  her,  until  now,  a  civilized  power,  England,  has 
gained  control  of  her. 

"The  Hindoo  people  were  launched  forth  on  this  earth  in  a  superior 
state  to  the  outside  world,  but  for  her  terrible  invaders,  and  subju 
gations,  she  would  still  range  among  the  highest,  instead  of  being 
fallen  in  might  and  prestige.  Under  ignoble  conquerors,  and  their 
satraps'  grinding  heel,  India  has  been  beaten  and  crushed  into  sub 
mission,  though  she  has  fought  heroically  against  it.  She  has  passed 
through  the  throes  of  every  conceivable  type  of  warfare,  and  has  sus 
tained  the  full  brunt  of  what  war  entails;  their  harm  is  simply  ap 
palling,  when  one  reviews  her  list  of  injurers,  who  with  loot  and 
glory-seeking  lust,  have  despoiled  her  dearest,  richest  treasure  wanton 
ly  and  barbarously,  sapping  all  the  spirit  out  of  the  downtrodden  peo 
ple,  by  their  tyrannical  suzerainty. 

"These  wanton,  licentious  tyrants  would  have  destroyed  her  mor 
ally,  but  her  discerning  guides,  her  revered  moralists,  have  piloted  her 
people  away  from  the  impending  engulfments  in  iniquity.  This  is 
proof,  though  at  this  period  ruined  in  fortune,  that  she  can  yet  mend 
her  fabric  and  become  a  luminary  of  the  world.  For  a  people,  who 
can  be  so  sagely  led  by  their  own,  and  can  follow  so  implicitly  in 
the  right,  in  the  face  of  terrible,  continually  confronting  temptations 
to  induce  them  to  forsake  purity  and  chastity,  must  be  one  of  her 
culean  moral  strength.  They  are,  indeed,  for  they  have  gallantly  borne 
up  in  the  worst  of  martyrdom,  and  have  crusaded  against  viciousnes? 
whenever  they  have  had  the  leeway  and  resources  to  do  so. 

"Epitomizing  India's  memorable  invaders  and  conquerors,  I  might 
mention,  to  give  you  some  comprehension  of  the  constancy  of  them, 
the  invasion  of  Darius  Hystaspes,  over  five  centuries  before  the  Chris 
tian  era;  that  of  Alexander  the  Great  in  327  B.  C.;  the  Tartar  inva 
sion;  the  Scythian  invasion,  extending  from  100  B.  C.  to  the  dawn  of 
the  sixth  century,  A.  D.;  the  Mohammedan  period  of  supremacy, 
commencing  from  the  first  successful  inroad  by  Subuktigin,  in  996 


90  CHATS   WITH  THE  BRAHMIN. 

A.  D.,  until  the  destruction  of  the  Mogul  Empire  by  the  Persian  Nadir 
Shah,  1739;  Mahmud  of  Ghazni  (a  zealous  and  ambitious  conqueror  on 
the  behalf  of  the  Faith  of  Islam,  and  son  of  the  Moslem  general  Sub- 
uktigin)  began  invasion  after  invasion,  seventeen  in  all,  in  A.  D.  1001, 
in  each  of  which,  he  invariably  won,  aggrandizing  and  fortifying  his 
power  by  wresting  riches  from  the  subdued  Hindoos.  In  the  latter  part 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  came  the  terrible  man  Tamerlane,  who 
wrought  death  and  destruction  broadcast;  Baber  conquered  in  1526, 
founding  the  historic  Mogul  Empire,  which  brought  forth  some  able 
rulers  at  first;  then  came  Nadir  Shah  of  Persia;  following  him,  in 
1761,  came  Ahmed  Shah  al  Abdali  (a  former  general  under  Nadir 
Shah). 

"India  has  ever  been  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes.  The  sensual  pleas 
ures  her  riches  afforded,  made  her  the  legitimate  (?)  prey  of  all;  the 
disgorgement  of  her  wealth  has  everlastingly  been  the  loathsome 
aim  of  her  invaders. 

"The  people  of  this  land  of  paradise,  subdued  era  after  era,  and 
placed  in  the  toils,  naturally  became  embittered  against  their  harsh 
grasping  masters,  who  never  relaxed  their  despotic  ruling,  but  con 
tinued  to  absorb  the  good,  the  heart  of  their  territory  they  had  irrupted 
and  made  subservient.  Moreover,  these  arbitrarily  empowered  op 
pressors,  with  their  petty,  underling  despots,  repaid  their  nominally 
dignified  subjects,  in  reality  abject  slaves,  by  throwing  upon  them  the 
vices  of  dissolutism,  and  the  refuse  of  the  real  subjects  of  their  abso 
lute  government.  Are  you  astounded  or  even  surprised  that  many 
of  the  Hindoos  are  violent  dissenters,  and  opposers  of  foreign  doc 
trines  and  methods. 

"Besides  the  Oriental  incursors,  we  have  had  numerous  European 
invaders  and  conquerors,  who  have  assailed  our  beloved  India  with 
ultra  voracity.  The  Dutch,  the  Danes,  the  Portuguese,  the  French 
and  the  British,  all  fighting  like  the  most  rabid  animals— ravenous 
wolves— once  ferociously  attacking  the  new  found  prey,  and  then,  after 
killing  it,  fighting  among  themselves  for  the  carcass. 

"Manifold,  and  unnecessary  sufferings  were  subsequently  imposed 
on  unhappy  India  (the  much  contested  prize,  the  diamond  in  the 
rough),  by  brigandish,  piratical  European  hosts.  Advanced,  and  God 
fearing  nations,  have  concocted  the  direst  villainies,  heaped  them  upon 
her  hapless,  unoffending  head  and  then  have  calmly,  cold-bloodedly 
allowed  them  to  work  their  destruction  on  her  people,  her  lands,  her 
all,  while  they,  themselves  (these  inordinate  gluttons)  endeavored  to 
appease  their  rapacious  appetites  for  gain,  unmindful  of  the  rack 
and  ruin  they  had  fettered  on  their  enfeebled,  unaggressive  victim. 


GHATS   WITH   THE   BRAHMIN.  9 

"These  evils,  these  stigmas,  and  curses,  these  trespassing  de 
stroyers  have  fanned  into  a  flame,  are  among  others,  the  most  heinous 
opium  and  liquor  traffics;  England  has  introduced,  organized  and 
monopolized  the  first,  whilst  the  latter  has  been  led  foremost  by  her, 
being  meagerly  shared  in  by  the  other  powers,  who  have  only  held 
Indian  possessions  of  limited  extent,  and  who  retained  them  but  a 
brief  period. 

"Not  only  has  Great  Britain  put  these  suicidal  weapons  in  India's 
hands,  and  forced  her  (for  she  resisted)  to  learn  and  develop  their  use, 
but  she  has  promulgated  the  enslaving  opium,  forcing  the  vile  drug  on 
much  more  unfortunate  China. 

"India  is  the  involuntary  producer  of  the  opium  (that  is  unfortu 
nate  and  infamous  enough),  the  Mongolian  Empire  is  the  principal 
consumer,  but  the  British  Government  (most  contemptible,  and  most 
infamous)  is  the  sole  purchaser  of  the  accursed  stuff,  she  is  the  guilty 
reaper  of  these  ill  gotten  gains,  gains  procured  by  the  debasement  and 
suffering  of  sister  lands. 

"Fortunately,  India  only  produces,  and  does  not  consume  the 
damning  narcotic.  But  despite  this  fact,  that  she  is  not  the  drug's 
vassal,  she  feels  the  pangs  of  the  wickedness  greater  than  the  shame 
of  a  criminal  besmirchment  of  her  formerly  clear  name. 

"Her  richest  soil  is  devoted  to  the  production  of  the  poppy,  not 
strips  of  it,  but  in  some  districts  all  of  it;  the  resulting  penalty  being 
dreadful  famines.  The  cereals  and  the  various  necessities  of  life  are 
neglected  for  the  cultivation  of  this  vengeance  wreaking  drug,  and 
when  distress  of  any  serious  nature  possesses  the  opium  raising  dis 
tricts,  famine  breaks  out  concurrent,  and  the  people  perish  in  thous 
ands,  yea  millions. 

"If  India  had  been  the  guilty  instigator,  and  promoter  of  the  ex 
ecrable  trade,  starvation  meted  out  to  her  masses  might  have  been  a 
merited  retribution,  but  when  she  is  innocent,  the  punishment  is  too 
unjust  and  dreadful  to  contemplate. 

"England,  although  she  has  not  suffered  directly  for  a  sin  she  has 
nourished,  has  so  conducted  her  own  creation,  that  it  has  enwrapped 
the  chains  around  her  own  form.  She  is  now  so  deeply  involved  in 
debt,  that  she  must  needs  continue  in  the  wrong  in  a  fruitless,  yet 
desperate  effort  to  reclaim  herself.  She  dare  not  apply  the  effective 
remedy  of  entire,  abrupt  stoppage,  by  curbing  her  craving  for  treasure, 
that  provoked  the  inception  of  the  festering  sore. 

"Hence,  the  era  of  the  opium  trade  continues  unimpaired,  and  in 
stead  of  declining,  bids  fair  to  become  a  permanent  evil,  that  doubt 
lessly,  will  cast  millions  upon  millions  of  humanity  into  an  abyss 


92  CHATS   WITH  THE   BRAHMIN. 

of  darkness,  infamy  and  despair.  As  the  situation  is  at  the  present 
day,  it  will  require  an  universal  reaction  of  reform  to  down  this  mon 
ster,  opium,  and  though  this  should  eventually  occur,  I  would  fore 
tell,  not  as  an  alarmist,  that  scores  of  years  of  preciousness  must  roll 
on,  before  the  uprooting  can  be  absolute. 

"Considering  these  odious  deeds,  the  critical  historian  must  decide 
that  England  has  not  been  a  virgin  of  purity  in  all  her  dealings  with 
India. 

"Forethought,  genuine  sympathy,  and  concerted  movement  with 
the  pure  native  ideas  on  the  part  of  the  government,  can  alone  coun 
teract,  with  expedite  certainty,  the  feeling  of  mutual  foreign  ani 
mosity  nurtured  among  the  people  of  India. 

"Diplomacy  in  its  channels  is  right,  but  genuineness  in  accelera 
tion,  and  propitiation  of  actions,  and  plans,  is  the  quality  that  grasps 
the  sceptre  of  command,  that  is  presented  with  unanimous  approba 
tion.  Notwithstanding,  if  a  government  cannot  act  with  genuineness 
of  sympathetic  aid,  let  them  do  so  diplomatically,  if  they  wish  to  ac 
quire  the  moral  as  well  as  demonstrative  support  of  their  subjects. 

"Real  diplomacy,  in  India,  calls  for  many  reforms,  and  time  will 
only  serve  to  more  fully  illustrate  the  want  of  them. 

"There  is  not  a  virtue,  industry  or  institution  of  any  kind  in  India 
that  has  not  been  affected  in  some  way  by  her  overriders,  and  in  most 
phases  for  the  worse.  It  has  been  a  case  of  a  country,  with  com 
paratively  few  faults,  having  evils  thrust  upon  her,  and  her  original 
weaknesses  magnified  a  thousandfold.  But  I  am  speaking  of  the  past 
in  relation  with  the  present;  India  now  has  a  present  for  the  future, 
and  she  will  gradually  atone. 

"When  I  came  to  this  country,  I  was  astounded  by  the  false  ideas 
prevalent  about  the  land  of  my  birth.  Numerous  books,  pamphlets, 
magazine  articles,  et  cetera,  that  I  have  read  on  her  condition,  cus 
toms,  religion,  and  other  subjects  relating  to  her,  have  caused  me 
mingled  indignation  and  amusement.  Indignation,  because  she  has 
been  falsely,  no  matter  if  unwittingly  or  not,  maligned,  and  abused; 
amusement,  because  of  the  silly  and,  in  a  broad  sense,  asinine  palaver 
and  depictions  of  the  writers.  These  scribes  may,  no  doubt  do, 
possess  a  certain  amount  of  intelligence  and  education  as  their  mortal 
apportionments,  but  they  have  procured  their  information  from  very 
unreliable  sources,  and,  with  extremely  few  exceptions,  have  taken  a 
very  narrow-minded  view  of  affairs.  I  do  not  say  facts,  because 
they  very  rarely  understand  or  state  them,  and  when  they  do,  gen 
erally  distort  them  to  suit  and  fit  their  works,  and  essays,  which,  as 
a  rule,  are  of  a  very  sensational  order,  intended  for  the  sensation- 
reading  public,  and  not  for  the  cultured  minority  of  your  people. 


CHATS   WITH   THE   BRAHMIN.  93 

"These  abjurers  of  truth,  and  flippant  traducers  have  spread  incal 
culable  untruths,  and  misconceptions  abroad.  The  Hindoos  are  now 
looked  upon  by  the  immense  majority  of  the  intelligent,  well-read, 
but  ill-informed  inhabitants  of  alien  lands,  as  heathens  or  savages, 
or  both,  but,  thanks  to  the  All-Creative  Power,  or  Creator,  that  you 
call  God,  and  I  Brahma  we  are  not  pagans,  uncivilized  brutes,  as  we 
have  been  misnomered,  and  described  by  these  travelers,  and  others. 
True,  our  life,  our  industries  may  be  antiquated,  and  primitive,  but 
our  religion,  and  our  morals  are  pure-pure." 


CHAT  IL 

COMPARISON  OF   THE  ART   OF  INDIA   AND  THAT  OF   THE 
OUTER   CIVILIZED   WORLD. 

"With  you  as  a  manufacturing  country,  a  progressive  country, 
we  cannot,  unfortunately,  be  compared.  But,  in  spite  of  our  grievous 
deficiencies  in  the  modern  substantial  industries  of  our  forward  con 
temporaries,  in  the  arts,  we,  in  many  equal,  and  in  the  science  of 
philosophy,  we  excel  you. 

"You,  speaking  of  you  all  as  one,  are  possessed  of  the  substantial 
fruits  of  industrial  art,  while  we  have  always  ranked  first  in  the  ideal 
art,  and,  I  presume  to  say,  will  continue  to.  I  must  confess  that  the 
advantages  of  excellence  in  the  industrials  are  manifold,  and  it  is  only 
too  evident,  that  in  the  upraising  of  the  multitude  it  excels  the  ideal 
in  much,  but  our  Creator  did  not  intend  that  the  beauties  of  the  world 
should  consist  in  substantiality  alone.  No,  symmetry  of  outline  should 
also  be  considered,  and  only  the  combination  of  the  two  can  be  made 
perfection. 

"True,  a  few  of  the  ancient  countries  have  competed  with  us, 
but  they  have  degenerated,  and  some  of  them  hopelessly  so;  while 
I  contend,  and  every  extensive  traveler  of  India  will  support  me,  that 
India  still  has  the  material  to  predominate  in,  and  perpetuate  her  sub 
lime  ideal  art.  She  has  manifested  to  the  world  the  excellence  of 
her  artists  by  her  exhibit  in  the  building  allotted  her  at  the  Columbian 
Exposition,  though  I  must  criticise  the  exhibit  censoriously,  and  state 
that  it  was  not  nearly  so  good  as  it  could  and  ought  to  have  been. 
Yet,  this  feeble  display  of  her  ability  made  many  realize  her  worth 
in  her  delicate  workmanship. 

"Our  ideal  art,  which  has  been  dealt  blow  after  blow  by  ignorant, 
unappreciative  foreign  conquerors,  is  slowly  progressing,  and,  in  time, 
we  will  come  back  to  our  standard,  and  shall,  I  hope,  endeavor  to 
blend  substantiality  with  the  ideal. 

"When  I  say  substantiality,  I  do  not  mean  exactly  strength  of  text 
ure;  many  of  our  beautiful  structures,  such  as  the  Tomb  of  Noor 
Mahal,  the  Pearl  Mosque,  and  others  too  numerous  to  mention, 
are  still  standing,  monuments  to  the  genius  of  the  artist  and  artisan 
sons  of  dear  old  India.  I  mean  the  usefulness,  practicability  of  every- 

N 


CHATS   WITH   THE   BRAHMIN.  95 

thing  appertaining  to  life's  work,  everything  concerned  in  the  general 
welfare  of  a  people.  Too  much  ideality  extends  to  frailness— too 
much  substantiality  to  the  other  extreme,  coarseness. 

"I  do  not  think,  that  I  indirectly  or  pointedly  accuse  you  of  being 
lost  to  the  beauties  of  the  world,  but  I  do  state,  as  a  fact,  implanted 
in  the  minds  of  many  of  your  own,  that  you,  in  your  struggle  for  ele 
vation,  have  lost  much  that  is  beautiful,  and  that  you  possessed  when 
not  so  highly  cultivated  (?).  Your  own  pre-eminent  poets,  and  artists 
have  mourned  the  lack  of  poetic,  and  artistic  feeling  in  you  as  a  race, 
and  now,  at  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century,  you  are  beginning  to 
feel  and  realize  the  truth  of  their  lament,  and  are,  I  am  happy  to  ob 
serve,  striving  to  culture  all  the  beauties  of  Nature,  which  form  the 
component  parts  of  real  art,  ideal  and  substantial. 


CHAT  IE. 

"The  mass  of  the  people,  of  the  outside  world,  already  believe  India 
a  beautiful  country,  possessed  of  many  artistic  treasures  in  exquisite 
buildings,  and  the  like,  and  that  she  has  able  artisans  still,  but  they 
cannot  imagine  that  she  has  a  pure,  mind-elevating  religion,  or  that 
she  possesses  any  inherent  education,  which  she  does  in  the  upper 
castes;  neither  can  they  class  her  in  any  other  respect  with  the  ad 
vanced  countries  of  the  exterior  universe;  they  simply  look  upon 
her  as  a  wild,  well  night  exhausted  region  of  the  earth.  In  this  last 
supposition  they  are  not  long  from  right,  so  far  as  monetary  exhaus 
tion  is  concerned,  but  she  is,  on  the  whole,  heights  above  wildnoss, 
and  has  the  nucleus  of  far-reaching  wealth  in  her  breast.  Though  her 
glowing  riches  (the  least  valuable  of  all)  have  been  spirited  away 
by  her  invading  robbers,  her  best  remains  for  future  toilers,  though 
not  for  robbers.  The  history  of  the  world  has  repeatedly  demonstrated 
that  there  is  a  resurrection  or  evolution  of  conditions,  and  I  cannot 
see  why  India  should  not  have  her  resurrection  as  time  glides  on. 

"Poor  India  must  be  aronsed  from  her  dormant  state,  and  then 
her  greatness  will  be  of  now,  not  of  the  departed  ages.  Do  not  think 
that  I  speak  this  in  enthusiasm  only,  or  because  her  long  gone,  proud 
and  noble  past  wakens  me  to  her  possible  future,  which  might  be  very 
vague  had  she  not  the  material  to  work  with.  No,  it  is  her  rising  con 
dition  that  encourages,  nay,  that  forcibly  impels  nie  to  make  this  fore 
cast  assertion.  The  revolution  of  feeling  has  commenced,  and,  in  a 
comparatively  short  time,  its  effect  in  India  will  be  felt  throughout  the 
universe,  and,  instead  of  possessing  several  hundreds  of  millions  of 
ambitionless  human  beings  in  the  Empire,  the  world  will  have  an 
animated  land,  straining  every  nerve  to  improve  herself,  and  sisters. 
Once  thoroughly  aroused  from  her  condition  of  suspended  animation, 
this  will  surely  be  the  result,  as  sure  as  there  is  a  sky  above  us. 

'•I  have  spoken  of  the  material  India  has,  that  will  yet  elevate  her. 
It  is  quite  natural  that  you  should  desire  to  know  clearly,  and  concise 
ly,  what  this  material  is.  Well,  she  has  a  very  productive,  fertile  soil, 
bound  to  yield  lucratively  both  in  abundance  and  quality.  But  most 
important  of  all,  she  has  a  number  of  progressive,  educated  sons, 
who  desire  to  see  the  work  of  elevation  go  onward,  and  forward.  They 
are  the  ones  that  exemplify  what  her  people  might  be  with  every 

96 


CHATS   WITH   THE   BRAHMIN.  97 

facility  for  education.  I  am  proud  to  say,  that  these  Brahmins  are 
the  equals  of  the  enlightened  people  of  the  outer  world. 

"This  may  seem  ridiculous  to  those  who  have  never  been  in  the 
land,  or  who  have  read  the  accounts  of  unreliable  writers,  but  it  is  not 
so.  Every  Brahmin  of  standing,  even  if  he  does  not  have  the  polish 
of  an  European  course  of  education,  writes  and  converses  in  from  three 
to  nine  or  more  languages,  and  understands  our  sacred  writing  San 
skrit,  the  father  of  all  tongues,  thoroughly.  The  last  is  an  all-import 
ant  part  of  a  Brahmin's  education,  for  the  Vedas,  and  other  theological 
books  are  in  Sanskrit,  and  as  they  set  forth  the  Brahmin  doctrines, 
and  laws,  and  as  the  Brahmin  is  of  the  sacerdotal  caste,  the  highest 
caste,  he  must  be  learned  in  all  the  precepts  his  religion  expounds. 

"This  is  not  bigotry,  because  in  learning  the  precepts  of  Manus, 
the  law-giver  of  Brahmanism,  and  studying  other  religious  works, 
the  student  has  to  acquaint  himself  with  many  sciences,  especially 
philosophy.  This  brings  in  one  of  the  most  rare  sciences,  which  you, 
as  a  people,  are  deficient  in. 

"Philosophy  is  the  foundation  of  Brahminism;  our  arguments  are 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  philosopher  and  humanitarian,  consequent 
ly,  all  Brahmins  are,  to  a  more  or  less  extent,  philosophers.  The  Hin 
doo  race  has  been  and  really  is,  too  philosophic  for  its  own  good,  for 
this  same  innate  doctrine  forces  it  to  bear  burdens  none  but  a  philo 
sophic  people  would  endure. 

"At  present,  India  needs  time  before  she  can  rise  from  the  chaos, 
that  has  enveloped  her  in  some  guise,  continually,  for  the  spirit  of 
progression  in  numbers  of  her  children  must  shape  a  destiny  far  above 
her  condition  at  this  hour.  The  sample  of  the  progressive  spirit  of 
the  Hindoos  is  shown  in  their  vigor  in  erecting  edifices  of  learning, 
In  simulation  of  the  peoples  of  the  West.  We  have  colleges,  and 
schools  of  the  highest  order,  encompassing  the  highest  branches  of 
learning,  established  in  the  large  cities,  and  common  schools  are  scat 
tered  over  the  land.  The  higher  institutions  only  take  in  a  small  radius 
to-day,  but  they  are  bound  to  extend. 

"The  Indian  potentates,  and  the  Hindoos,  of  large  and  small  means, 
have  assisted  to  the  best  of  their  ability  the  furtherance  of  the  grand 
enterprise  of  extended  education.  The  Hindoo  colleges  and  schools  are 
conducted  on  the  most  approved  continental  system,  by  most  able  na 
tive  faculties,  who  carry  the  rising  generation  on  to  the  acme  of  learn 
ing.  The  fees  for  the  courses,  in  comparison  with  those  demanded 
by  the  government  and  missionary  colleges,  are  much  less,  being  within 
the  reach  of  those  of  slim  incomes,  while  students  highly  versed  in  the 
elementary  branches  are  proffered  free  scolarships,  as  a  suitable  re 
ward  for  merit. 


98  CHATS   WITH  THE  BRAHMIN. 

"The  minds  of  the  students  of  these  homes  of  learning,  are  not 
only  enriched  by  digging  in  abstruse  sciences  under  erudite  professors, 
but  their  eyes  are  widely  opened  to  the  retrogradation  of  their  land, 
and  they  imbibe  through  the  printed  page,  the  liberal  ideas  of  the 
nations  afar. 

"In  supporting  the  negative  side  of  the  question,  whether  India 
is  backward  in  every  point,  I  have  had  the  honor  and  opportunity  to 
raise  my  voice  in  her  defense.  I  only  hope  I  have  rendered  her  cause 
some  aid,  and  I  feel  that  I  have.  I  know  her  faults  from  practical, 
actual  contact  with  her  people,  but  I  know  her  virtues  just  as  well. 
I  have  shut  my  eyes  to  neither  one  nor  the  other,  and  have  always 
endeavored  to  assist  in  rectifying  the  first,  and  sustaining,  defending 
and  improving  the  latter.  The  mind  of  this  age  is,  I  reiterate,  satiated 
with  groundlessly  base  and  shallow  stories  of  India,  that  have  not  a 
semblance  of  truth  in  them.  They  have  been  put  afloat  by  bombastic 
scribblers,  mistermed  'Eastern  Savants,'  who  either  have  the  presump 
tion  to  criticise  a  land  and  people  they  are  unacquainted  with,  or  hash 
up  their  masses  of  vituperations,  and  aspersions,  because  it  is  to  their 
interest  to  do  so.  If  India  is  to  be  viewed  from  an  invulnerably  skep 
tical  standpoint,  with  a  meager  sprinkling  of  unprejudiced  critics,  it 
makes  it  a  sheer  necessity  that  she  find  her  main  defenders  among  her 
own. 

"That  India  has  her  lackings,  and  her  degenerations,  I  would  not 
foolhardily  deny,  but  her  atrocious  decryers  skip  over  her  vast  good, 
and  enlarge  upon  the  bad,  that  is  mostly  the  product  of  alien  force, 
trickery,  and  tampering.  Those  blessings  she  has  are  microscopod 
instead  of  being  extolled,  and  the  backsliding  and  unrighteousness  is 
seldom  fairly  dwelt  upon  in  cause  or  remedy. 

"Without  a  verbose  discourse  on  the  matter  of  remedy  (I  have 
spoken  at  length  of  the  cause),  I  would  say  that,  to  put  on  foot,  and  at 
tempt  to  sustain  a  full-fledged  radical  reform  movement  would  be 
to  deal  your  object  a  death  blow,  and  its  originators  and  sustainers 
could  not  hope  to  start  another,  no  matter  how  ameliorated  or  lessened 
in  radicalism,  with  any  show  of  triumphant  success.  They  would  be 
irretrievably  tabooed  by  the  orthodox  forces.  The  sensible  Brahmins, 
ardent  in  their  desire  for  social  improvements  and  religious  revisions, 
have  realized  this,  and  have  judiciously  and  rationally  withheld  their 
unbounding  zeal,  though  working  quietly  and  effectually  for  the  high 
est  inculcations,  thus  founding  a  right  to  be  recognized  as  possessors 
of  your  Job's  great  attribute— patience. 


CHAT  IV. 

"Your  Biblical  advocates,  in  India,  have  not  masticated  the  sub 
ject,  have  rushed  headlong  into  an  abortive  crusade  against  all  the 
teachings  and  practices  of  the  Hindoos,  overlooking  the  predominating 
beauties  it  holds,  and  have  thus  demolished  whatever  chance  they 
might  have  of  small  success,  and  causing  all  elements  to  reciprocate  the 
bitter  feeling  in  speech,  and  writing,  they  have  improvised  as  their 
almighty  weapon  of  persuasive  warfare. 

"The  Brahmins  were  at  first  attracted  to  your  religious  belief  to 
the  degree  of  sounding,  examining  and  respectfully  discussing  it,  which 
is  a  great  margin  more  than  your  religious  advocates  have  done  with 
ours.  But  when  the  Brahmins  saw  the  thoughtless,  hostile  follies 
your  advocates  committed,  they  shrank  back  and  as  the  obnoxious 
methods  of  traduction,  on  the  part  of  these  advocates  continued  and 
multiplied,  the  animostiy  of  the  Hindoos  was  aroused  in  the  most  an 
tagonistic  form,  as  they  rallied  to  the  defense  of  the  faith  of  their 
fathers. 

"The  liberal-minded  Brahmins  have  always  thought  the  employ 
ment  of  brainy  argument,  witty  repartee  if  you  will,  correct,  but  for 
religious  traduction,  there  has  been  but  one  word  never!  With  the 
arguing  pen  and  voice,  the  Brahmins  would  have  stepped  forth  to  wel 
come  the  Biblical  advocates,  but  their  opponents,  introducing  slander, 
they  have  excluded  them  from  their  presence  and  attention  as  hon 
orable  disputants. 

"Although  many  of  the  Brahmins  have  picked  up  the  retaliatory 
method  of  abuse,  we  of  any  broad-mindedness,  have  not  descended  to 
the  degradation  of  defaming  or  attempting  to  belittle  the  Bible,  which 
you  hold  to  be  divinely  inspired.  To  the  contrary  we,  of  discernment, 
admire  its  excellent  doctrines  and  propounded  wisdom,  and  consider 
you  fortunate  to  have  such  a  regulator  of  life;  yet,  with  pardonable 
secular  esteem,  we  are  firmly  and  as  unshakenly  impressed  with  the 
greatness,  wiseness  and  appropriateness  of  our  beloved  Vedas. 

"The  Brahmins,  of  advanced  thought,  are  convinced  that  the  faults 
of  the  Hindoo  race  lie  in  its  quixotic  customs  that  have  become  con 
founded  and  admixed  with  its  religion,  and  have  shaped  themselves 
into  religious  superstition.  With  these  thoughts  uppermost  in  their 
minds,  the  erroneous  principles  must  be  abolished!  The  patient,  quiet 
process  of  renovation  is  leagues  ahead  of  noisy,  clamorous  scrambling 

99 


100  CHATS   WITH  THE   BRAHMIN. 

for  newness,  that  mostly  ends  vaporally.  Conditions  and  circum 
stances  must  be  accounted  in  all  such  efforts,  to  force  modern  ideas 
ahead,  on  one  and  all,  is  similar  to  forcing  a  child  to  too  much  study, 
cramming  is  the  school  parlance,  I  believe.  The  opposition  to  all  ad 
vanced  ideas  is  very  strong  among  the  ignorant  and  bigoted  classes 
(we  have  them  the  same  as  you,  and  a  great  many  more  in  proportion). 
The  persistent  lilliputian  progressionists  will  win,  by  showing  the 
stolid  opposition  where  they  are  in  error,  and  the  corrective  for  their 
mistakes.  Thus  we  will  pass  out  of  the  yoke,  that  has  been  reposing 
heavily  on  our  necks,  led  by  the  advancers  with  their  reactionary 
principles.  But  time  must  elapse  ere  this. 

"I  would  say,  in  conclusion,  that  temperate  conservatism  is  posi 
tively  progressive,  much  more  so  than  unthinking  rushes  forward, 
but  that  hermitism  is  of  an  entirely  opposite  nature.  We  have  the 
two  spirits  in  India,  and  therein  lays  the  problem  of  modernizing  the 
land.  The  complete  adjustment  of  India's  curses  and  healing  of  her 
wounds,  which  are  no  longer  gaping  as  they  have  been  in  various  ages, 
is  assigned  to  her  not  far  distant  generations,  while  the  future  mil 
lions  are  yet  unborn,  the  advanced  Brahmins  of  the  times,  and  their 
immediate  progeny  are,  and  will  be  laboring  on  the  advanced  highway, 
so  as  to  bequeath  their  lineal  descendants  some  fragments  of  the  ad 
vanced  methods  and  truths,  and  at  the  same  time  be  taming  the  oppo 
sition  of  the  internal  dissenters  into  a  demulcent  spirit. 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 


101 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

These  fragmentary  writings,  evidently  the  labor  of  his  leisure  from 
High  School  studies,  are  inserted  to  indicate  the  industry  of  the  lad  in 
his  determined  purpose  of  a  future  vocation,  rather  than  for  any  liter 
ary  merit  they  possess.  Still  they  add  to  the  purpose  of  the  publication 
as  noting  his  perseverance  and  method. 

LETTERS  FROM  A  PRODIGAL  ABROAD, 

A  fellow  gets  enough  advice  to  drive  him  "plum  wild  an'  'stracted" 
these  days.  Every  old  crank  he  meets  has  three  or  four  great  big  "gobs" 
of  advice  to  offer  him,  and  usually  they  are  left  over  stock  nearly  as 
useful  as  advice  from  me  upon  how  to  get  rich  would  be. 

If  you  see  a  fellow  who  couldn't  swim  his  own  length,  very  busy 
talking  on  the  beach,  you  make  your  mind  up  that  he  has  a  victim 
whom  he  is  advising  upon  "that  beautiful  art,  sir,  swimming!  A  glori 
ous  recreation,  sir."  And  as  it  goes,  "I'll  bet  dollars  to  doughnuts," 
your  dad  has  been  instructed  by  half  the  amateurs  and  barnstormers 
he  knows,  in  regards  to  the  most  effective  manner  of  eating  leeks 
(onions)  and  playing  "the  squire."  Ask  him. 

I  didn't  know  you  had  a  lawsuit  on  hand  of  late  years.  What 
was  it?  Tell  me  something  of  it  next  time.  Glad  the  old  man  won 
it,  though.  Tell  him  to  stay  on  Easy  street  this  time,  and  rent  out 
the  old  place  on  Hardtack  alley.  That  is  too  close  to  Broke  avenue 
to  be  really  comfortable.  Oh,  lordy!  I've  been  all  along  there. 

Did  you  ever  sleep  at  Mrs.  Greensward's  Hotel?  I  have.  You  pull 
the  sky  over  you  for  cover,  and  use  the  stars  for  a  lamp;  use  the  north 
and  south  poles  for  bed  posts,  and  an  early  morning  shower  for  an 
alarm  clock.  It  is  fun,  but  too  much  of  it  is  tedious. 

*    *    * 

ONE  OF  LIFE'S  CHARACTERS. 

The  other  day  I  was  going  down  Broad  Street  when  I  espied  a 
gaunt,  old  man,  who  was  quite  over-bent  with  age.  His  narrow, 
bewrinkled  face  possessed  but  one  prominent  feature,  a  thin,  elongated, 
crooked  nose; — his  small  sunken,  gray  eyes  could  be  dimly  discerned 

103 


104  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

through  the  haze  of  his  shaggy  eyebrows,  yet,  both  they  and  the 
yellow  parchment  skin  seemed  only  a  background  to  the  nose.  His 
hoary  locks  fell  over  his  shoulders,  being  in  strong  contrast  with  his 
well-worn,  black  suit.  As  he  limped  along  with  the  aid  of  his  faith 
ful,  sturdy,  hickory  cane,  one  might  imagine  him  a  rare  relic  of  the 
ante-deluvian  period,  preserved  for  our  benefit. 


A  SUDDEN  SHOWER  ON  THE  STREET, 

See,  there  runs  a  newsboy,  drenched  by  the  downpour,  but  loudly 
and  persistently  crying  "Extra!"  There  is  an  unfortunate  Italian, 
standing  wearily  by  his  fruit  cart  under  a  leaky  shed,  with  his  coat 
buttoned  up  and  presenting  a  most  miserable  appearance  in  general. 
Hither  and  thither  flit  the  pedestrians,  sprinting  for  shelter. 
The  carts  rush  madly  along  in  desperate  attempts  to  reach  their 
destinations.  Indeed  the  burst  of  rain  has  caused  havoc  throughout 
the  thoroughfare. 


THAT  PROSPECTIVE  CITY  COLLEGE. 

Across  Broad  Street  from  either  the  front  of  the  Main  Building,  or 
the  Annex,  one  may  see  a  great  structure  which  every  student  of 
the  Central  High  School  considers  one  of  the  Seven  Wonders  of  the 
World.  When  this  edifice  will  be  completed,  is  the  Chinese  walled 
puzzle  of  the  anxious  Seniors,  Juniors,  Sophs  and  Fresh.  Will  it  be 
finished  in  eighteen  hundred  and  ninety  six  or  a  few  centuries  later, 
when  our  great-great-grandsons'  great-great-grandsons  are  ready  to 
enjoy  its  many  comforts? 


GRAND  OLD  BROAD  STREET. 

If  the  'buses  are  forced  off  Broad  Street  and  the  trolley  cars  sub 
stituted,  I  would  consider  it  a  most  unfortunate  exchange.  The  street 
is  now— as  its  name  implies— broad  and  also  clear.  With  disfiguring 
trolley -tracks  on  its  breast,  it  must  be  accordingly  marred  in  beauty, 
filled  with  the  whiz  and  rumble  of  trolley  wires  and  wheels,  as  well 
as  being  additionally  dangerous  for  the  pedestrian.  For  the  sake  of 
the  beautiful  street  and  the  great  number  of  people  who  traverse  it, 
I  hope  the  old  'bus  remains  supreme! 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS.  106 

AN  INVOLUNTARY  CLIFF  ROLL. 

Astoria,  is  a  little  city  at  the  mouth  of  the  historic  Columbia  River, 
which  flows  by  the  City  of  Portland  (this  is  an  error,  Portland  is  situ 
ated  on  the  Williammette  River,  an  affluent  of  the  Columbia),  the  main 
centre  of  Oregon,  and  one  of  the  principal  points  on  the  Pacific  Slope. 
Astoria,  is  the  port  of  Portland,  and  consequently  allied  in  fortune 
with  the  larger  City. 

The  small  city— named  after  the  renowned  John  Jacob  Astor— is 
built  mostly  on  piles,  with  numberless  hills  for  a  background.  The 
climbing  and  descending  of  these  hills  is  a  favorite  pastime  of  the 
young  Astorians,  and  I  often  joined  them  in  their  rather  exciting 
ascents  and  descents.  The  descent  I  have  in  mind  was  by  far  the  most 
perilous  of  all  my  "hill  adventures"  and  one  of  the  most  dangerous 
events  of  my  brief  existence  of  fifteen  years. 

It  may  seem  a  Munchausen  story  of  high  degree  to  the  reader,  but 
I  can  well  vouch  for  it,  as  can  some  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  place. 

During  a  visit  to  Astoria,  I  had  met  a  spiritualist— a  lady  who  dealt 
with  the  departed.  (?)  As  I  was  then  but  eleven  years  of  age,  such  a 
personage  filled  me  with  deep  awe.  When  one  day  my  spiritualistic 
acquaintance  asked  me  to  accompany  her  on  a  visit  to  a  friend,  I  was 
but  too  glad  to  acquiesce.  We  made  our  jaunt  happily  enough,  but 
when  we  reached  the  friend's  home,  I  was  unceremoniously  deserted 
by  the  "Doctor,"  the  spiritualist,  who  tersely  bid  me  good-bye,  there 
upon  I  marched  for  my  hotel. 

The  home  of  the  spiritualist's  friend  was  upon  one  of  the  hills 
previously  mentioned,  so,  in  order  to  get  back  where  I  lived,  a  descent 
was  necessary.  Instead  of  going  down  the  path  my  companion  and  I 
had  ascended,  I  started  off  on  my  own  hook  to  discover  a  new  way 
to  descend— and,  I  did!  Rambling  on  among  the  trees,  I  found  a 
path  at  last  and  decided  to  follow  it  up.  Starting  up  a  race  pace,  I 
forged  ahead  swingingly  until  of  a  sudden  I  reached  a  clump  of  trees 
and  high,  thick  grass,  which  seemed  to  form  a  natural  termination  of 
the  route.  Yet  I  foolishly  pushed  forward  into  the  grass.  Crack- 
went  some  underlying  twigs.  Crunch— went  the  soft  sod  under  me 
and  in  a  jiffy  I  plunged  forward— falling  or  rather  sliding  down  a 
steep  decline,  little  less  than  perpendicular.  Down  I  had  gone  like  a 
shot,  till  my  feet  striking  a  tuft  of  grass,  I  was  thrown  on  my  side 
and  began  rolling.  Fortunately  I  had  made  no  effort  to  stay  my 
lightning-like  roll,  because  of  extreme  fright.  They  say  people  think 
a  deal  when  in  such  a  predicament,  but  all  I  thought,  as  I  rolled, 
bumped  and  bounded  on  was  simply  "I'm  a  goner!"  The  last  I  re- 


106  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

member  of  this  unlocked  for  and  rapid  descent  was  a  bang  against 
a  knoll  of  earth,  a  bounce  in  the  air,  and  then  landing  squarely  on  a 
spread  of  soft  earth  some  feet  below,  which  broke  my  fall  and  prob 
ably  saved  me  from  either  serious  injury  or  death. 

People  below  who  had  seen  me  tumble,  rushed  forward  and  helped 
me  up.  I  was  carried  into  a  house  and  manipulated.  The  breath  had 
been  metaphorically  "knocked  out  of  me."  My  eyes  filled  with  dirt, 
and  my  body  slightly  bruised,  but  no  bones  were  broken  and  strange 
to  say  my  clothes  not  torn,  due  to  the  fact  that  they  were  of  extra 
strong  material  (the  uniform  of  the  Cadets  at  the  Bishop  Scott 
Academy  of  Portland,  Oregon.) 

The  dirt  was  fished  out  of  my  eyes,  I  was  given  a  dose  of  strong 
whiskey  and  ingloriously  carted  home  in  a  carriage,  by  a  gentleman. 
When  1  reached  home  my  parents  were  out,  so  I  quickly  got  to  bed, 
being  soon  after  taken  with  a  vomiting  spell,  in  the  midst  of  which, 
with  two  ladies  by  my  bedside,  mother  and  "Pop"  arrived.  I  had 
gathered  and  eaten  blackberries,  and  to  allay  the  intense  alarm  of  my 
mother  at  the  apparent  hemorrhage  I  forced  myself  to  sputter  forth 
"B-1-l-ck-berries." 

Next  morning  as  I  was  all  right,  except  for  a  little  soreness,  I  ex 
plained  to  my  parents  that  I  had  fallen  fifteen  feet.  Later  in  the  day 
Mr.  Olsen,  as  Auctioneer  and  a  friend  of  "Pop's"  met  him  and  spoke 
of  my  terrible  fall.  Father  said  "Yes,  a  fall  of  fifteen  feet  is  bad." 
"Fifteen  feet!"  thundered  Mr.  Olsen  in  exclamation.  "Mr.  Jack," 
said  he,  regaining  his  composure,  "I  want  you  to  come  along  with  me 
right  now,  and  see  where  your  son  had  his  tumble."  They  reached 
the  spot  as  I  was  showing  the  place  to  my  mother.  My  parents  were 
horrified  at  the  sight.  The  path  I  had  made  from  the  high  grass  and 
tree  was  plainly  visible  down  the  almost  vertical  side  of  the  hill.  My 
clothes  must  have  adhered  to  the  clay  soil,  the  clinging  of  which  had 
stayed  the  velocity  of  my  descent.  They  estimated  that  I  slid  between 
sixty  and  seventy  feet  when  my  feet  striking  a  bunch  of  grass  where 
the  hill  spread  out  about  forty-five  feet  toward  the  road,  with  a  fall 
of  some  dozen  feet  or  more.  The  collision  with  the  grass  must  have 
pitched  me  forward  and  on  my  side,  and  I  continued  rolling  till  I 
came  to  the  edge,  when  I  had  a  further  fall  of  some  eight  feet,  landing 
on  an  encrusted  surface  formed  by  the  silt  that  years  of  rain  and 
storm  had  washed  to  the  bottom.  My  head,  by  a  few  inches  escaped 
hitting  an  upright  hitching  post  and  I  landed  between  the  fore  and 
hind  wheels  of  an  old  cart  that  had  stood  there  for  several  years 
after  being  discarded  as  useless.  My  body  in  rolling,  after  striking 
the  tuft  of  grass,  had  followed  a  course  made  by  the  rains  and  thus 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS.  107 

avoided  a  large  rock  that  I  might  have  hit,  and,  In  landing,  had  I 
swerved  a  little  either  to  the  right  or  left,  I  would  have  struck  the  post 
or  the  wheels  and  death  in  unison.  The  entire  fall  and  roll  was  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  The  afternoon  and  next  morning 
papers  all  had  lengthy  accounts  of  the  fall  of  John  Jack's  son. 


THE  REAL  BRUISER. 

When  I  was  in  my  twelfth  year  (I  am  fifteen  now),  I  was  a  fervid 
follower  of  pugilism.  Like  many  a  boy  who  has  read  unrealistic  but 
blood-curdling  detective  and  other  novels,  I  read  everything  in  the 
papers  concerning  the  fighters  and  the  fights.  I  had  even,  to  my 
mother's  horror  and  my  father's  disgust,  gathered  together  in  a  scrap 
book  the  pedigree  of  all  the  worthies  of  the  ring,  making  annotations 
in  pen  and  ink  in  ardent  praise  or  censure  of  each  knight  of  brawn  and 
muscle.  But  the  cure  for  my  pugilistic  mania  was  at  hand  and  came 
in  a  mild  way,  though  it  left  a  forcible  impression  upon  my  brain. 
At  the  time  which  I  write  I  resided  in  San  Francisco,  California.  We 
lived  on  the  European  plan,  and  I  ate  my  meals  at  Manning's  Res 
taurant,  opposite  Baldwin's  Hotel.  One  evening,  while  seated  at  a 
table,  stowing  away  everything  that  had  been  brought  me  for  dinner, 
in  came  an  immense,  thick-set  man,  with  a  high  hat,  stand  up  collar, 
gaudy  neck  tie,  large  expanse  of  white  shirt,  with  a  large,  coquettish 
diamond  blinking  under  the  brilliant  lights  of  the  place,  stuck  in  it. 
His  dress  plainly  showed  his  ilk— one  of  the  "red  hot  sports."  Walking 
behind  this  typical  individual  was  a  quiet,  plainly  and  neatly  dressed 
young  fellow,  who  showed  more  of  politeness  than  his  companion,  by 
reason  of  the  circumstance  that  he  had  taken  off  his  hat  as  soon  as 
he  had  entered.  The  man  with  the  "stove  pipe"  now  took  off  that 
piece  of  headwear  and  put  it  on  the  rack,  at  the  same  time  shaking  his 
beringed  hand  to  cause  a  full  scintillation  of  the  precious  stones  set 
in  them.  To  cause  more  attention  and  add  to  his  importance(?)  he 
uttered  -an  unnecessary  and  hoarse  series  of  grunting  coughs.  His 
silent  companion  quietly  put  his  hat  on  the  rack  and  they  sat  down  at 
my  table. 

I  had  forgotten  food  by  this  time,  eating  mechanically  and  watch 
ing  these  two  individuals  with  interest. 

The  owner  of  the  "plug  hat"  now  opened  up  a  loud  conversation 
with  two  sporty  young  fellows  at  an  adjoining  table,  a  boisterous 
chat  on  the  merits  of  prominent  race-horses,  and  the  day's  race  was 
the  theme,  the  quiet  little  man  maintaining  silence  throughout.  At 


108  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

last  to  my  great  delight,  their  cross-table  conversation  drifted  to 
fistiaua,  and  I  was  all  attention  as  they  discussed  foremost  pugilists 
of  the  day.  The  talk  of  the  trio  was  full  of  slang,  and  seemed  to  annoy 
other  patrons  of  the  place,  but  they  kept  it  up,  although  their  voices 
dropped  to  a  lower  pitch  as  they  proceeded.  Local  pugilism  was  next 
on  the  tapis,  and  as  they  reached  the  subject  of  a  prospective  contest 
between  Tommy  White  and  some  negro  boxer,  I  was  "warmed  up" 
so  to  speak. 

"Who  do  yer  t'ink  's  goin'  ter  win?"  inquired  the  flashily  dressed 
individual,  in  a  tough  voice.  Before  the  inquirer  could  be  answered 
by  either  of  the  other  two  speakers,  I  unconsciously  said,  "Tommy 
White,  you  bet."  Immediately  th'e  attention  of  all  was  turned  on  me, 
and  I  felt  quite  abashed  for  so  volunteering  a  reply  to  the  principal 
spokesman,  who  now  gazed  at  me  with  a  surprised  look. 

"Why  do  yer  t'ink  White's  goin'  ter  win,  Kid?"  he  quizzed  with  a 
searching  look.  "  'Cause  I  do,"  I  answered,  in  a  scared  tone  and  with 
a  frightened  look,  causing  all  to  laugh,  even  the  quiet  young  man  who 
heretofore  appeared  listless. 

"Dat's  no  reason,"  laughingly  and  semi-scornfully  vouchsafed  the 
big  be-jeweled  sport. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  why  I  think  Tommy  must  win,"  I  spoke  with 
a  show  of  confidence  now.  "You  know  Tommy  White  lammed  the 
stuffin'  out  of  Billy  Murphy,  and  though  I  backed  Murphy,  that  made 
me  a  supporter  of  White  then  and  there.  I  tell  you,  he  can't  lose, 
he's  Champion  in  his  class."  That  sport's  face  was  a  study  of  mingled 
surprise  and  incredulousness. 

As  soon  as  the  "big  'un"  could  catch  his  breath  he  started  iu: 
"Look-a-here,  Kid,  what  do  yer  know  about  the  pugs?"  "Why,  I've 
been  a  follower  of  the  ring  for  a  dog's  age,"  I  stoutly  asserted.  This 
knocked  them  off  their  pins  of  dignity,  and  they  roared,  as  did  the 
surrounding  patrons.  "Dat  settles  it,"  chokingly  said  my  sport  in 
terrogator,  in  the  midst  of  a  spasm  of  laughter.  There  was  a  few 
seconds'  pause,  as  the  laughing  and  chuckling  subsided,  and  then,  as 
if  a  thought  had  crashed  through  his  cranium,  he  bawled  out  as 
everyone  pricked  up  their  ears:  "Say,  kin  Tommy  White  lick  Dal 
Hawkins?"  "Yes,  you  bet  your  gold  watch  and  chain,  he  can  smother 
him,"  I  said  emphatically,  gazing  at  his  monstrous  dangling  chain 
that  shook  on  his  rotund  abdomen  as  he  writhed  in  his  chair  in  laugh 
ter,  chorused  by  the  surrounders. 

"De  Kid's  dead  game,"  he  asserted  to  his  sporting  chums,  and  then, 
as  if  by  sudden  inspiration,  he  wheeled  around,  grabbed  his  quiet 
companion  by  the  shoulders,  and  said  in  a  sonorous  voice:  "This, 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS.  109 

Kid,  is  Mr.  Tommy  White."    My  arm  shot  out  like  a  piston  rod  of  an 
engine,  and  my  little  hand  grabbed  the  palm  of  "Mr.  White's." 

Note! about  limited  contests.    "Want  to  see  th'  claret" 

and  my  soliloquy  on  brutality  of  fighting,  and  that  the  "sport"  was 
the  real  bruiser. 

His  story,  like  his  young  life,  is  broken  off,  but  from  his  note  it  is 
evident  that  he  intended  to  conclude  it.  From  his  account  at  the  time 
I  recall  that  "Tommy  White"  continued  the  talk  with  him,  calling  out 
his  impressions  of  the  "fighters"  in  general,  his  sporty  friend  becoming 
impatient,  tried  to  hurry  him  off,  but  White  said,  "No,  I  want  to  talk  to 
this  young  lad.  I've  heard  all  your  'smart  Alecks,'  who  know  all  about 
it,  but  I  tell  you  this  Kid  has  a  better  knowledge  of  the  merits  of  the 
boys  than  the  whole  lot  of  'em  put  together."  The  community  at  this 
time  was  excited  by  the  killing  of  a  poor  waiter  in  a  scrap  at  one  of 
the  Athletic  Clubs,  so  White  asked  the  boy  his  opinion  upon  the 
effect  it  would  have  on  boxing  in  general,  who  said  he  thought  it 
would  tend  to  stop  brutality,  but  that  the  sport  should  be  continued, 
the  points  in  the  match  being  regarded  as  the  object  to  be  aimed  at, 
at  which  the  sporty  gent  remarked:  "Ah,  I  wouldn't  give  schucks  for 
a  fight  if  I  couldn't  see  the  claret." 


THE  C  H.  S.  BLOWERS  CLUB/ 

(By  Arthur  Firmin  Jack.) 

I.    "Ala  Vacash." 

II.    Serious  Discussion  of  a  Model  Educational  Course. 
III.    The  Safety  of  the  Safety. 
IV.    On  the  Heels  of  Momentous  Questions. 

V.    A  Chat  on  the  C.  H.  Srs'  Sports. 
The  Philosophical  Member. 
The  Blockhead  Member. 
The  Munchausen  Member. 
The  Cynical  Member. 
The  Aristocratic  Member. 
The  Poetical  Member. 
The  Linguistic  Member. 
The  Jovial  Member. 

*  Two  chapters  only  are  herewith  reproduced.— Compiler. 


110  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

BRIEF   PREFACE. 
We  use  no  names,  we  leave  the  reader  to  recognize. 

I. 
"ALA  VACASH." 

"Buttons!  But-tut-tut-tut-tons,  I  sa-a-a-y!"  roared  the  Verbose 
member,  for  that  unfortunate  delinquent  personage,  who  was  in  some 
extreme  of  the  building,  the  Verbose  member,  who  had  just  quietly 
entered  (with  the  aid  of  his  precious  latch  key),  and  had  so  disturbed 
the  peace,  stopped  for  breath.  Before  he  could  repeat  the  heinous 
offense,  he  was  faced  by  the  quaking  black.  "Here  I  is,  sah,"  says 
"Buttons,"  with  a  scared  grin.  "What  does  yo'  desire,  sah?" 

"Take  off  my  coat,  sir,  this  instant,"  gruffly  says  the  individual 
addressed.  Buttons  quietly  relieves  him  of  his  hat  and  coat,  brushes 
him  off,  and  then  stiffens  up  in  an  erect  posture,  like  a  statue.  The 
Verbose  member  hands  Buttons  a  quarter,  which  occasions  a  thankful 
roll  of  the  said  Buttons'  eyes,  as  he  silently  and  quickly  pockets  it. 
Then  the  irritated  donor  marches  into  the  club  room. 

As  the  newcomer  enters,  all  the  members  in  conclave  abruptly 
break  off  conversation,  stiffen  into  "military  form"  and  quietly  and 
solemnly  recognize  him.  One  might  imagine  from  this  grave  saluta 
tion  that  the  individual  was  either  of  importance  or  that  he  was 
cordially  disliked  in  the  true  sense  of  the  phrase.  The  fact  is,  an 
intermingling  of  both  feelings  occasioned  it.  The  Verbose  member 
crosses  over  to  two  gentlemen,  whose  eyes  light  up  as  if  they  expected 
him  to  join  them. 

"Well,  well,  how  are  you,"  asks  one,  extending  his  hand.  "Splen 
did!  Never  felt  better  in  my  life.  How's  yourself?"  says  the  Verbose 
member,  shaking  hands. 

A  brief  introduction  to  the  second  party  follows,  and  then  an 
animated  chat  commences,  which  is  concluded  by  the  Verbose  member 
looking  at  his  watch  and  ejaculating:  "Gentlemen,  we  are  three 
minutes  late  by  my  trustworthy  timepiece!" 

Hereupon  all  the  gentlemen  in  the  room  fumble  for  their  "trust 
worthy  timepieces,"  (ranging  from  Waterburys  up),  and  give  them  a 
second  of  close  scrutiny. 

"You  are  two  minutes  fast,  sir,  by  your  trustworthy  timepiece," 
says  the  ironical  voice  of  a  tall,  raw-boned  individual. 

"One  minute  and  a  half,"  chips  in  a  dwarfed  personage,  with 
excited  emphasis.  "One  minute  and  a  quarter!"  "A  minute!"  and 
various  other  announcements  of  the  correct  (?)  time  came  from  the 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS.  HI 

various  gentlemen  assembled.  "Sirs!"  roars  the  Verbose  member,  in 
hot  indignation,  "I  would  have  you  understand  that  my  watch  is  an 
old  revered  family  heirloom,  that  has  never  been  known  to  fail!  Never! 
Never!" 

"Well,  it  is  known  to  fail  for  once  now,"  replied  the  Cynical  mem 
ber,  who  has  caused  this  upheaval  of  indignation,  by  first  declaring 
the  watch  fast. 

"My  clock— I  mean  watch—  sir,  was  set  by  the  Independence  Hall 
Clock  an  hour  and  a  quarter  ago,  sir,"  vouchsafes  the  Verbose  member. 

"I  don't  give  a  continental;  your  clock  is  absolutely  wrong.  My 
watch  is  not  an  old-fashioned,  worn  out  family  relic,  but  a  capital 
Swiss  one,  sir,"  returns  the  Cynical  member,  with  vigor.  "Mine,  sir," 
fires  back  the  Verbose  member,  "is  a  good,  practical,  easy-going 
American  made  watch,  sir;  not  a  new-fangled  foreign  idea.  A  lottery! 
A  quack  product!  A ' 

"Oh,  we  know  your  timepiece  is  a  paragon,  sir,  do  not  extoll  it, 
nor  decry  mine,  I  pray,"  breaks  in  the  Cynical  member,  with  irritating 
coldness.  The  Verbose  member  checks  his  reply  and  sets  to  work 
(with  the  aid  of  his  two  companions)  to  smooth  out  his  ruffled  feathers, 
while  the  Cynical  member  starts  up  a  quiet  discussion  of  the  merits 
of  a  good  watch  with  his  more  congenial  friends.  All  watches  having 
been  fumbled  back  into  their  respective  pockets,  everyone  soon  re 
lapses  into  groups,  chatting— suddenly,  however,  a  member  recollects 
that  this  is  an  improper  procedure  and  emphatically  inquires:  "Gen 
tlemen,  we  are  now  ten  minutes  behind  time.  Are  we  going  to  have 
our  social  meeting  this  evening,  or  not?" 

"Certainly!  Oh,  most  assuredly,"  comes  from  all  quarters  of  the 
room,  as  a  refumbling  for  watches,  to  re-ascertain  the  mooted  time, 
is  made.  But  a  general  anxiety  to  "Come  to  order"  deters  all  from 
discussing  this  subject,  which  everyone  feels  must  cause  another 
thunderclap,  hurt  more  feelings,  and  cause  more  hearty  ill-will,  yet, 
everyone  has  his  private  opinion,  which  is  muttered  in  solo,  for  per 
sonal  satisfaction. 

"Gentlemen,  let  us  pull  up  our  chairs  to  form  a  circle  and  con 
verse,"  proposed  the  Aristocratic  member,  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word  by  drawing  out  his  chair. 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  Philosophic  member  with  the  rest,  "I  don't 
believe  in  spiritualism,  or  any  ism  for  that  matter,  but  there  is  nothing 
so  convivial  as  a  spiritually  happy-go-lucky  circle." 

A  general  approval  of  "that's  so,"  and  so  forth,  is  elicited  by  this 
as  each  member  assists  in  quickly  forming  a  broken  circle. 

"Now  this  is  not  a  geometrically  correct  circle,   gentlemen;  the 


112  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

circumference  is  away  out,  but  we  are  all  together,  and  I  suppose 
have  a  loquacious  quantity  of  eloquence  ready  to  tap  for  general 
discussion  and  debate,"  rightly  surmises  the  Jovial  member. 

"Exactly  so,"  says  everyone,  and  the  Jovial  member  is  happy. 
Well,  gentlemen,  this  is  the  first  meeting  of  the  season.  How  have 
the  members  made  out  during  their  extended  vacation?"  inquires  the 
Philosophical  member.  There  is  a  chorus  of  mingled  emphatic  replies 
of  "Immensely,"  "Excellently,"  "Tremendously!"  But,  the  deep  voice 
of  the  Aristocratic  member  rises  above  the  rest  and  gains  the  as 
cendency. 

"Ah,  I  spent  all  my  time  abroad  this  year,  my  dear  fellows.  Beau 
tiful  country— beautiful  country.  Unless  you've  been  abroad  you  don't 
know  what  it's  like,  don't  you  know." 

"I  suppose  so,"  remarks  the  Cynical  member.  "You  imbibe  so 
much  there." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  reiterates  the  Aristocratic  member.  "Where  can 
you  find  such  a  country  as  England,  except  in  England  itself?  Why, 
when  I  speak  of  abroad,  I  always  mean  England.  I  never  think  of  the 
excitable  Frenchman,  slow  breathing  Dutchman,  or  any  of  the  rest, 
don't  you  know.  I  tell  you  there  is  no  other  place  like  it  for  eclat  of 
character!" 

"Well,  no-ow"  drawls  the  Blockhead  member.  "I  only  went  to 
England  once,  but  I  think  that  our  State  of  Jersey  is  a  more  pleasur 
able  section  of  the  world  to  visit  any  time  of  the  year." 

"Yes,  but  remember  you  have  only  been  to  England  once,  old  chap, 
and  I'll  wager  it  was  a  short  trip." 

"I  trotted  out  to  the  Pacific  Coast,"  affirmed  the  Verbose  member, 
bursting  in  upon  the  Aristocratic  member,  and  silencing  him.  "Found 
the  country  sadly  depleted  of  both  Cow-boys  and  gold,  especially  gold. 
But  the  far  West  is  there  and  prospering  like  it  rains  in  Oregon,  by 
inches." 

"Now,  I  went  on  a  jaunt  down  South,"  puts  in  the  jovial  member, 
cutting  out  his  predecessor,  who  pauses  for  breath.  "That  is,  I  should 
say,  through  Florida.  Found  plenty  of  Colonels,  whiskey,  and  darkies, 
and  a  fair  supply  of  beautiful  scenery.  Florida  is  the  State  to  go  to 
for  health,  especially  if  you've  got  a  blood  disease,  for  there's  so 
many  'skeeters  that  you're  soon  bloodless.  It  beats  Jersey  all  hollow, 
and  who  won't  vouch  for  Jersey?  The  invalids  seem  to  appreciate 
this  and  flock  there.  Why,  I  considered  myself  a  perfect  Sandow 
all  through  the  Summer.  In  many  instances  I  was  the  only  guest  in 
the  Hotel  who  could  talk,  walk,  eat  and  sleep  without  assistance!" 

"Well,  I  went  up  into  New  England,"  says  the  Munchausen  mem- 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS.  118 

ber.  "An  excellent  section.  In  Boston,  what  one  man  don't  know 
the  next  man  does,  and  more,  too.  I  wore  three  pairs  of  gold  rimmed 
spectacles  during  my  stay  in  the  city.  My  optician  bills  ranged  up  in 
the  hundreds,  and  I  went  through  three  libraries  daily  to  let  'em 
see  that  one  doesn't  have  to  be  a  Bostonian  to  be  a  student." 

There  was  a  solemn  pause,  an  unanimous  sigh  of  doubt  and 
then  the  poetic  member  rushed  to  the  rescue. 

"I  went  up  to  the  Catskills,  struck  sublime  scenery,  the  kind  that 
lifts  one  to  a  planet  of  contentment,  but  my  boarding  house  proved 
so  bad  on  the  score  of  bodily  sustenance  and  rest,  that,  though  my 
soul  was  enraptured,  my  poor  stomach  was  placed  in  a  state  of 
chronic  indigestion.  For  the  preservation  of  my  physique  and  mind, 
I  was  forced  to  forsake  the  heavenly  surroundings  and  make  a  speedy 
return  trip  home  to  place  myself  under  the  care  of  our  family  physi 
cian." 

"Too — too — too  bad,"  tentatively  sympathized  the  Linguistic  mem 
ber.  "I  went  to  Paris,  and  had  a  jolly  time,  that  is— that  is— I  had 
a  bon  voyage  and  a  happy  time  studying  old  French  under  some  able 
native  masters." 

"Studying  old  French,  under  old  Frenchmen,  eh?"  abruptly  says  the 
cynical  member,  much  to  the  linguistic  member's  annoyance.  "Old 
French!  The  idea  of  studying  such  mummified  nonsense!  The  fact 
that  some  language-munching  old  fossils  have  succeeded  in  raking 
up  and  perpetuating  worn  out,  exhausted  Greek  and  Latin,  and  have 
put  them  on  your  shoulders  should,  I  think,  satisfy  you  without  in 
stilling  a  burning  desire  in  your  noddle  to  plunge  into  dead  and  gone 
French." 

"Sir,"  says  the  Linguistic  member  with  supreme  contempt,  "you 
are  not  a  scholar.  For  the  sake  of  your  reputation  you  had  better 
hold  your  peace." 

"Well,"  icily  replies  the  cynical  member,  "I  only  gave  you  a  piece 
of  my  mind." 

The  linguistic  member  muttered  "the  ignoramus,"  but  the  philo 
sophical  member  lulled  this  dangerous  side-tracked  debate  by  quickly 
breaking  in:  "Nearly  all  of  you  have  been  somewhere  or  another,  I 
suppose,  but  I  have  continued  a  resident  of  this  city  of  Brotherly 
Love,  and  though  I  broiled  and  frizzled  to  perfection  under  the  rays 
of  old  Sol,  I'm  satisfied  I've  had  a  vacation. 


114  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

IL 

SEKIOUS  DISCUSSION  OF  A  MODEL  EDUCATIONAL  COURSE.* 

"Gentlemen,"  starts  up  the  aristocratic  member,  "vacation  is 
over,"  has  been  handled  as  a  topic  of  the  evening,  so,  for  a  change, 
I'd  like  to  ask  the  assemblage  their  views  on  an  exemplary  educational 
course,  one  that  any  college  or  student  might  be  proud  to  boast  of." 

This  sudden  change  caused  a  perceptible  flutter,  but  the  eloquence 
of  the  member  had  been  tapped,  and  was  now  commencing  to  flow 
in  a  flooding  stream,  that  drowned  all  opposition. 

"Well,  sirs,"  said  the  linguistic  member,  setting  the  ball  a-rolling, 
"I  consider  that  the  first  thing  to  be  treated— if  we  were  writing  a 
book,  or  essay,  on  the  subject— would  be  the  etymology  of  the  word 
education.  Education,  sirs,  is  derived  from  the  word  educatio;  the 
French  education;  the  Italian  educazione;  and  the  Spanish,  educa- 
cion;  it  is  a  common  noun  (who  can  doubt  it),  and  applied  to  the  com 
mon  and  higher  culture  of  the  common  and  higher  people." 

A  quiet  "Whew!"  burst  from  the  lips  of  nearly  all,  as  this  dignified 
definition  is  brought  to  an  end  with  the  utmost  pomposity. 

"That  is  all  right,"  runs  in  the  cynical  member,  but  as  we  are  not 
writing  a  book  or  an  essay  on  the  subject,  and  not  on  a  philological 
point  at  all,  I  think  we  can  well  dispense  with  all  your  bulky,  use 
less  gibberish  on  the  derivation  of  a  word  that  only  concerns  us  in 
effect,  and  not  meaning.  Who  cares  for  education?  I— I  mean  the 
etymology  of  the  word — I  don't.  No  one  but  an  inquiring  bookworm 
does,  and  the  practical  business  man  is  so  glad  that  he  has  got,  and 
is  using  his  education  that  he  hasn't  either  the  time  or  desire  to  go 
dictionary  hunting." 

"That's  so,"  springs  in  the  blockhead,  "I  always  liked  quail  or 
grouse  hunting  much  better  than  dictionary  hunting." 

The  linguistic  member  mumbled  "a  pair  of  fools,"  bit  his  lip,  and 
kept  silent. 

"Well,  I've  got  some  views  on  education— not  stereopticon  views, 
either,"  commenced  the  jovial  member.  "I  believe  everyone  ought  to 
be  educated,  perfectly  educated,  that  is,  one  ought  to  have  so  much 
education,  and  no  more  or  less." 

"Ah,  but  you  are  forgetting  the  important  physiological  fact,  that 
no  man  is  equal  to  another  mentally  or  physically." 

"This  is  established  by  the  medical  fraternity,"  interrupted  the 
philosophical  member.  "You  know  the  old  trite  aphorism— 'one  man's 
meat  is  another  man's  poison.' " 

*  AUTHOR'S  NOTE.— May  change  this  to  "A  Serious  Discussion  of  Education". 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS.  115 

"Well,  I  may  be  forgetting  the  physiological  fact,  but  I  have  stated 
what  I  would  like  to  see  true,"  continued  the  jovial  member.  "I  must 
confess,  however,  that  your  poisoned  meat  adage  comes  in  oppor 
tunely.  But  you  must  remember  that  orators  as  well  as  lawyers 
can  stretch  points." 

"Stretch  is  a  very  appropriate  word,"  remarks  the  aristocratic 
member,  rubbing  his  hands.  "If  you  had  used  a  lighter  calibered 
word,  you  would  have  failed  to  have  expressed  the  thought— if  you 
had  used  a  harsher  one,  you  would  have  been  an  offender  against  the 
laws  of  society.  Your  use  of  this  word  stretch,  I  consider  a  part  of 
education,  and  higher  education,  too.  You  have  simply  placed  the 
identically  necessary  part  of  speech  in  the  identically  necessary  place." 

Seeing  that  the  Aristocratic  member  had  finished  with  his  bag 
pipe,  the  Cynical  member  dropped  into  the  discussion  again.  "Yes, 
you  identified  yourself  with  the  word  stretch,  but  English  is  not  the 
only  study  to  be  upheld.  Every  study  is  important,  and  the  one  you 
can  master  the  least  is  the  most  important.  You  are  at  the  Alumni, 
but  when  you  trot  out  on  the  Globe,  the  one  you  can  best  use  and  have 
most  command  over,  is  the  one  you  want.  I  say  study  what  is  needed, 
what  you  can,  and  what  you  will.  I  can't  guarantee  that  you  are 
educated  even  then,  but  you've  studied,  and  that  is  a  satisfaction  in 
itself.  It's  the  study's  fault  if  in  such  a  case  you  cannot  comprehend 
it,"  and  the  Cynical  member,  stopped  with  an  emphasis,  showing 
too  plainly  that  he  considered  all  that  could  be  aptly  said  upon  the 
subject  had  been  said. 

But  the  discussion  was  not  to  be  dropped,  for  now  the  Verbose 
member  opens  up  with  his  batteries.  "Sirs,  this  subject  is  not  to 
be  passed  over  so  lightly.  We  have  comparatively  little  time  to  de 
vote  to  the  question,  but  let  us  devote  what  time  we  have.  Sirs,  this 
is  a  grand,  superb,  magnificent  matter  to  pass  judgment  upon.  What 
is  education?  My — dear— sirs,  it  is— the— indoctrination— of— the— the— 
the  angelic  thoughts  of  the  theologian,  the  practicability  of  the— the— 
the  instruction,  and  the  general — mark  me — general  breeding  of  a  gen 
tleman,  in  toto.  I  could  say  more,  but  this  must  suffice.  I  admonish 
you  to  wrestle  writh  your  Greek,  Latin,  Physics,  Ethics  and  all;  over 
throw  them,  conquer  them."  The  Verbose  member  put  a  lid  over  his 
vocal  chords,  to  the  immense  satisfaction  of  every  member.  Every 
one  began  to  breathe  freely  once  more,  but  none  seemed  willing  (let 
alone  anxious)  to  continue  in  the  trend,  and  the  Blockhead  member 
mumbled  something  about  being  a  "poor  wrestler,"  and  that  was 
the  finis.  ,  -  I 


116  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS. 

CORRESPONDENCE. 

Editor  of  the  Mirror: 

Dear  Sir:—  Thanking  you  most  heartily  for  the  publication  of  my 
first  contribution  to  the  "Mirror's"  columns,  I  enclose  a  second—  and 
I  trust  not  the  last—  set  of  puzzles  for  the  current  month,  which  I 
hope  you  will  find  worthy  of  space.  As  they  are  personal,  I  hope  you 
will  exercise  your  discretion  before  allowing  them  to  appear  in  print. 
That  is,  you  may  find  they  contain  certain  petty  witticisms,  but  do 
not  allow  that  fact  to  prevent  your  eliminating,  or  absolutely  striking 
out,  any,  or  all  of  them,  if  you  consider  that  they  may  injure  in  some 
respect  the  personal  feelings  of  the  esteemed  gentlemen  referred  to. 

By  their  non-appearance  in  your  paper,  I  shall  know  that  I  have 
acted  too  bluntly  and  that  you  have  simply  brought  down  the  axe 
of  censorship. 

If  this  prove  to  be  the  case,  I  will  be  more  cautious,  and  try  to 
summon  more  discretion  to  my  aid  the  next  time  I  communicate  with 
you.  Respectfully  yours, 

ART.  JACK. 


Why  is  Dr.  Lightfoot's  name  in  antithesis  to  his  tread? 

Who  is  the  Professor  that  is  getting  off  so  many  "Brandt"  new 
sayings? 

Why  is  Fessa  (whom  the  Fresh  think  a  great  deal  of)  called  a 
"riptail  Rorer?" 

Why  does  the  President  of  the  "Annexed  Fresh"  give  his  men 
(they  are  nominally  such)  so  much  work  "Bartine"  sessions? 

What  is  the  connection  between  the  "Miller  of  the  Dee"  (Prof. 
Mensa)  and  a  "lively  cricket?" 

Supposing  that  all  of  the  faculty  are  good  church-goers,  who  is 
the  most  "Christine"  member  on  the  point  of  class  strictness? 

Why  does  Playwright,  Bookwright,  Albright  Professor  Lacy,  per 
sist  so  "earnestly"  in  lacing  up  the  La  (z  or  c)  boys? 

Does  a  certain  much-liked  professor  of  this  institution  know  that 
a  certain  student  was  nearly  "hided"  by  us  for  impudently  affirming 
that  he  (the  said  student)  had  never  heard  a  "Snyder  lecture"  than  the 
one  delivered  on  a  certain  Thursday? 


MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS.  117 

The  following  simple  scraps  of  poetry  were  found  among  his  ef 
fects,  and  as  they  express  the  tendency  of  his  thoughts,  are  included  in 
this  memorial. 

THE  DIVINE  POET. 
(From  the  Boston  Pilot.) 

Whatever  lacks  purpose  is  evil,  a  pool  without  pebbles  breeds  slime; 
Not  any  one  step  hath  chance  fashioned  on  the  infinite  stairway  of 

time; 

Nor  ever  came  good  without  labor,  in  toil,  or  in  science,  or  art; 
It  must  be  wrought  out  through  the  muscles,  born  out  of  the  soul  and 

the  heart. 

Why  plough  in  the  stubble  with  ploughshares,  why  winnow  the  chaff 

from  the  grain? 
Ah,  since  all  of  His  gifts  must  be  toiled  for,  since  truth  is  not  born 

without  pain! 

He  giveth  not  to  the  unworthy,  the  weak  or  the  foolish  in  deeds; 
Who  giveth  but  chaff  at  the  seed-time  shall  reap  but  a  harvest  of 

weeds. 

As  the  pyramid  builded  of  vapor  is  blown  by  His  whirlwinds  to  nought, 
So  the  song  without  truth  is  forgotten;  His  poem  is  man  to  man's 

thought. 

Whatever  is  strong  with  a  purpose,  in  humbleness  woven,  soul-pure, 
Is  known  to  the  Master  of  Singers.    He  toucheth  it,  saying  "Endure!" 

*  *    * 

HEAVEN    BY  LITTLE. 

Heaven  is  not  reached  by  a  single  bound; 
But  we  build  the  ladder,  by  which  we  rise 
From  the  lowly  earth  to  the  vaulted  skies, 

And  we  mount  to  its  summit  round  by  round. 

I  count  these  things  to  be  grandly  true! 

That  a  noble  deed  is  a  step  towards  God. 

Lifting  the  soul,  from  the  common  sod, 
To  a  purer  air  and  a  broader  view. 

We  rise  by  the  things  that  are  under  our  feet, 
By  what  we  have  mastered  of  greed  and  gain, 
By  the  pride  deposed,  and  the  passion  slain, 

And  the  vanquished  ill  that  we  hourly  meet. 

This  poem  he  recited  with  good  effect  before  his  Class  ou  the 

Wednesday  preceding  his  death. 

*  *    * 

THE  SCULPTOR  BOY. 

Chisel  in  hand  stood  a  Sculptor  boy, 

With  his  marble  block  before  him;— 
And  his  face  lit  up  with  a  smile  of  joy 

As  an  Angel  dream  passed  o'er  him. 


118  MISCELLANEOUS  WRITINGS, 

He  carved  that  dream  on  the  yielding  stone 
With  many  a  sharp  incision; 

In  Heaven's  own  light  the  sculptor  shone, 
He  had  caught  that  Angel  vision. 

Sculptors  of  life  are  we,  as  we  stand, 

With  our  lives  uncarved  before  us, 
Waiting  the  hour  when,  at  God's  Command, 

Our  life  dream  passes  o'er  us. 
Let  us  carve  it  then  on  the  yielding  stone, 

With  many  a  sharp  incision;— 
Its  Heavenly  beauty  shall  be  our  own — 

Our  lives,  that  Angel's  vision. 


On  the  day  before,  he  was  at  his  cousins'  and  for  them  recited 
the  verses.  After  he  had  finished,  the  cousin  asked  him,  "If,  when 
he  had  finished  his  schooling  he  intended  to  follow  his  father's  pro 
fession"  (an  actor).  Without  discussing  the  matter,  he  replied,  "I 
don't  know,  but  I  have  only  one  aim  in  life  now,  and  I  shall  have  it 
till  I  accomplish  it,  and  that  is,  to  provide  a  plain  little  home  for  my 
Mama  and  Papa."  And  it  was  this  laudable  ambition,  this  prompting 
of  a  filial  love,  that  urged  on  his  efforts  to  fit  himself  for  work  that 
might  provide  an  income.  And  to  do  this,  he  knew  that  labor  was 
necessary,  also,  that  as  intelligence  was  the  most  effective,  his  work 
and  his  energy  was  such  that  he  would  seek  and  "find  where  truth 
be  hid,  though  it  were  hid  indeed  within  the  center."  It  was  this 
impulse  to  verify  a  silly  tale  that  led  him  to  his  desperate  end. 

#    *    * 

A  FRAGMENT. 

One  evening,  filled  with  heavy  care, 
Reclining  deeply  in  the  Ancestral  chair, 
That'd  fought  so  sturdily  the  grim  foe,  wear, 
My  thoughts  redrifted  to  days  past  by, 
And  a  vision  came  unto  my  drooping  eye 
That  caused  me  a  regretful,  painful  sigh. 

'Twas  not  a  spectre  of  voluptuous  delight, 
Nor  a  revolting,  vile  phantom  of  the  night, 
But  a  face  ever  dear  to  my  young  sight. 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES 


IN 


PHILADELPHIA  AND  PORTLAND, 
OREGON, 


TOGETHER    WITH 


NEWSPAPER  TRIBUTES  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 


ARTHUR  FIRMIN  JACK 


ALSO  THE  STORY  OF  THE  ACCIDENT  AND  EXTRACTS 

FROM  LETTERS  WRITTEN  SHORTLY 

BEFORE  His  DEATH. 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  121 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Jack  regret  that  there  is  an  absence  from  this, 
their  memorial  tribute  to  their  beloved  son,  a  full  transcript  of  the 
entire  proceedings  of  the  memorial  services  in  homage  to  his  memory, 
held  at  the  Walnut  Street  Theater,  in  Philadelphia,  by  the  kindness 
of  Mr.  Frank  Howe,  manager,  on  Sunday  afternoon,  2.30  p.  m.,  March 
29th,  1896.  The  following  day,  March  30th,  would  have  been  the 
sixteenth  anniversary  of  his  birth.  Rev.  C.  Lockwood  Fulforth,  of  the 
Messiah  Church,  East  Huntington  and  Thompson  streets,  opened  the 
exercises  in  prayer,  followed  by  Dumont's  Minstrels,  from  the  Eleventh 
Street  Opera  House.  A  double  quartette,  or,  more  properly  speaking, 
a  septette— seven  voices  (names  chronicled  elsewhere),  who  rendered 
"Nearer  My  God  to  Thee"  and  "Rock  of  Ages"  in  impressive  and  truly 
sublime  harmony. 

Prof.  Charles  A.  Herrick,  of  the  faculty  of  the  Central  High  School 
staff,  expressed  in  choice  terms  the  characteristics  of  the  youth,  and 
the  respect  he  was  held  in  by  all  the  members  of  the  faculty  with 
whom  he  had  come  in  contact,  having  won  their  esteem  by  his  manly 
qualities,  happy,  joyous  nature,  and  devotion  to  his  studies.  His 
popularity  with  the  students  with  whom  he  associated  was  very 
pronounced,  and  had  become  deep  rooted  in  the  brief  time  he  had 
been  among  them,  and  they  all  deplored  his  loss. 

Mrs.  K.  G.  Bressnau's  soprano  solo,  "Holy  City,"  was  exquisitely 
rendered,  also  "The  Palms."  Dr.  Andrew  Macfarlane,  Principal  of  the 
Northeast  Grammar  School,  who  held  to  his  young  life  the  position  of 
friend,  as  well  as  teacher,  and  who  assisted  him  in  his  studies  even 
out  of  school  hours,  and  who  was  with  him  the  night  before  his  death, 
paid  him,  in  his  address,  a  pathetic  tribute,  recounting  personal  recol 
lections  from  their  very  first  meeting. 

The  father,  Mr.  John  Jack,  read  extracts  from  his  works,  and 
spoke  feelingly  of  the  disaster,  and  condemned  in  fitting  terms  the 
heartlessness  displayed  by  the  custodian  of  the  Beta  building,  in  their 
charges  of  personal  responsibility  on  the  part  of  his  son  for  the 
calamity.  Arthur  Henry  and  Dr.  Fulton's  addresses  follow. 

1744  Passyunk  Avenue,  Philadelphia,  April  7th,  1896. 
Dear  Captain  Jack:— 

In  compliance  with  your  request,  I  herewith  send  you  a  copy  of  the 
address  which  I  made  on  the  occasion  of  the  memorial  services,  in 
homage  to  the  memory  of  your  loving  and  beloved  son,  and  my  dear 
friend,  Arthur  Firmin  Jack. 

Allow  me  again  to  say  that  every  word  therein  is  most  sincere, 
and  my  true  conviction. 

By  a  singular  coincidence,  there  were  three  of  us,  each  of  whose 


122  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

first  names  was  Arthur:  Arthur  Jack,  Arthur  James,  and  myself. 
We  three  were  elected  officers  of  our  class;  and  again,  singularly 
enough,  we  three  of  the  whole  class,  were  very  much  of  one  mind,  in 
reference  to  object  in  life,  aspirations,  and  ambitions.  We  held  to  a  sort 
of  compact,  to  insure  diligence  and  good  discipline  in  our  class  at 
school;  to  discountenance  and  prevent,  as  far  as  possible,  any  "fresh 
ness,"  or  "Jack  Harkaway-isms."  Thus  it  was  that  we  consulted 
together,  and  that  I  had  the  opportunity  of  learning  and  appreciating 
his  merit. 

I  would  now  beg  you  to  comply  with  a  request  I  make;  that,  if  you 
can,  you  will  kindly  send  me  a  photograph  of  him  whom  we  all  loved. 

With  kind  regards  to  Mrs.  Jack  and  yourself,  I  am,  sincerely  yours, 

ARTHUR  HENRY. 

ARTHUR  HENRY'S  ADDRESS. 

Dear  Friends  and  Classmates: — 

As  President  of  the  class,  of  which  he  was  a  member  and  officer, 
at  the  Central  High  School,  and  because  of  the  strong  personal  regard 
that  had  grown  between  us,  I  have  been  accorded  the  honor  of  address 
ing  you  on  this  sad  occasion. 

To-day  would  have  completed,  had  not  the  inscrutable  will  of  God 
otherwise  ordained,  the  sixteenth  year  of  the  existence  of  one  whom 
we  all  had  learned  to  love,  and  in  whose  memory  we  are  here  assem 
bled  to-day,  to  speak  in  fondness  of  his  many  good  qualities— qualities 
that,  in  a  combined  state  and  to  such  a  degree,  rarely  exhibit  them 
selves  in  one  of  his  years. 

Many  of  us,  like  myself,  knew  him  but  a  short  while,  yet  during 
that  time  our  duties  as  class-officers  brought  us  together  frequently, 
and  gave  opportunities  for  observing  and  learning  those  good  qualities 
of  heart  and  mind  which  so  endeared  him  to  us.  His  courtesy  and 
kindliness,  his  noble  aspirations,  his  high  ideals,  his  integrity,  in 
declaring  the  right,  and  perseverance  in  doing  it. 

Whilst  he  was  but  a  child  in  years,  he  was  a  sage  in  wisdom. 

One  would  be  surprised  at  the  height,  the  breadth,  the  depth  of 
his  perceptions.  He  felt  and  knew  there  must  be  much  far  down 
below  the  surface,  beyond  the  horizon,  above  the  zenith,  and  he 
hungered  to  know  what  it  was.  He  was  never  frivolous;  always 
serious.  As  serious  in  play  as  in  work;  gleeful  in  his  play;  earnest  and 
diligent  in  his  work. 

To  him  "time"  was  not  "money,"  but  the  opportunity  of  fitting 
himself  for  a  nobler  purpose.  Life,  to  him,  was  a  mission,  a  duty  to 
be  performed— a  beacon  light  to  humanity. 

Merlin  (in  Tennyson's  Vivien)  says:  "Use  gave  me  fame,  and 
fame  increasing,  gave  me  further  use."  Thus  was  it  with  Arthur 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  128 

Jack.    This  was  the  road  which  he  mapped  out  to  fame;  and  this  his 
value  of  fame;  that  it  make  him  further  useful. 

This  occasion  recalls  to  my  mind  lines  "In  Memoriam,"  which  was 
written  for  a  similar  occasion,  some  seventeen  years  ago.  The  author, 
John  Arthur  Henry  (now  dead),  was  a  student  at  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania.  A  classmate  who,  like  our  dear  departed  friend,  was 
beloved  by  all  who  knew  him;  had  just  died  after  a  very  short  illness 
during  his  summer  vacation.  The  lines  are  so  beautiful  and  so  fitting 
to  the  present,  that  I  fain  would  repeat  them: 

"From  the  far  East  he  traveled  his  short  day, 

Rejoicing  toward  the  sunset  bound  of  life; 
But  darkness  gathered  round  him  on  his  way, 

And  by  the  roadside,  hidden  from  the  strife 
And  struggle  of  the  onward  pressing  mass, 

He  slept  the  sleep  of  everlasting  rest. 
We  in  his  path  a  loving  spot  shall  pass, 

Where  lies  in  death  our  latest  and  our  best. 
Yet  shall  we  grieve  for  him  the  surge 

And  struggle  of  the  onward  pressing  years, 
Shall  memory  refuse  a  fitting  dirge, 

Or  truer  tribute  to  its  silent  tears  ? 
Yet  selfish  is  the  grief  that  mourns  the  dead. 

Lost  to  the  world,  but  gathered  to  his  God, 
His  mounting  spirit  to  its  home  hath  fled; 

And  all  his  grossness  mingled  with  the  sod." 

I  have  called  this  a  sad  occasion.  It  should,  instead,  be  one  of  true 
joy;  for,  while  we  may  sympathize  with  one  another  over  our  loss, let  us 
remember  that  our  loss  is  his  gain;  that  while  the  beam  of  his  smile 
no  longer  shines  on  us,  he  to  his  "home  hath  fled,"  and  "selfish  is  the 
grief  that  mourns  the  dead." 

Let  us,  then,  in  homage  to  that  spirit,  resolve  to  cherish  and  keep 
green  his  spot  in  the  garden  of  our  memory. 

*     *     * 

Dr.  Fulton,  President  Emeritus  of  the  Cooper  Literary  Institute, 
delivered  a  brief  address  at  the  memorial  service  of  Arthur  Firmin 
Jack,  the  brilliant  young  man  whose  promising  career  was  ended  so 
suddenly  by  his  falling  from  the  Betz  Building.  We  have  secured  a 
copy  of  the  address,  and  print  it  on  another  page.  Our  readers  will 
agree  with  us  that  this  is  a  master-piece  in  the  line  of  literature,  and 
adds  another  laurel  to  the  many  that  adorn  the  Doctor's  brow.— Phila 
delphia  newspaper. 


134  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

DR,  FULTON'S  SPEECH. 

Memorial  Services  of  the  Late  Arthur  Firmin  Jack, 
FRIENDS  AND  SCHOOLMATES  GATHER   TO  PAY  HIM  TRIBUTE  —  DR.  T. 
OHAT.ivrF.RS  FULTON'S    TOUCHING    SPEECH  —  THE   WELL   KNOWN 
ORATOR'S  EULOGISTIC  REMARKS. 

It  will  be  remembered  this  boy  fell  from  the  twelfth  story  of  the 
Beta  Building  while  taking  a  bird's-eye  view  of  Philadelphia  for  the 
purpose  of  writing  a  school  essay  on  the  subject,  "Tall  Buildings,"  to 
be  read  at  the  Central  High  School,  of  which  he  was  a  student.  He 
was  the  son  of  the  distinguished  actor,  Captain  John  Jack,  now 
leading  man  in  Joseph  Jefferson's  company.  His  mother  has  been 
known  on  the  stage  as  "Annie  Firmin." 

The  following  speech,  a  correct  shorthand  report,  is  published  as 
a  specimen  of  pure  Addisonian  English. 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  It  becomes  my  melancholy  duty  to  speak 
a  word  and  take  a  brief  retrospect  of  one  cut  off  by  the  unsparing 
hand  of  fate  in  the  bloom  of  youth.  A  bright  lad  whom  it  was  my 
pleasure  to  know  as  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  Cooper  Literary  Institute, 
of  Philadelphia,  of  which  his  distinguished  father  is  a  member.  A 
boy  of  magnificent  physique,  beauty  of  form  and  feature,  polished 
and  manly  manners  of  address  and  grace  of  carriage,  precocious  far 
beyond  his  years,  and  promising  to  a  degree  that  words  would  fail 
me  to  depict.  In  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with  the  youth,  anyone 
of  breeding,  education  or  judgment  would  recognize  a  mind  that  it  is 
not  extravagance  to  denominate  a  prodigy  of  intellect.  Alas,  what  a 
light  has  been  extinguished! 

Th-:  subjects  which  this  beautiful  mind  considered  were  not  the 
trifles  of  fiction  or  the  gewgaws  of  boyish  sport— the  ball  field,  the 
boat  race,  or  the  fancies  of  pleasure.  On  the  contrary,  they  dealt 
with  questions  deeply  theological,  moral,  economic  and  mathematical. 
Indeed,  some  of  the  productions  that  this  developing  intellect  evolved 
would  do  credit  to  authors  of  fame  and  years  of  practice  in  the  art 
of  journalism  and  research. 

How  sad  it  is  that  this  great  prospect  is  veiled  forever,  and  that 
the  comforts  his  dear  parents  contemplated  as  the  light  of  their  de 
clining  years  have  been  torn  from  them  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
and  sunk  into  oblivion  to  rest  there  like  a  dream  of  childhood: 

"Until  the  stone  is  rolled  away  and  those  that  sleep  shall  rise  again." 
Our  sympathies  for  the  father  and  mother  we  cannot  convey  in 


MEMORIAL   SERVICES   AND   TRIBUTES.  125 

language,  but  we  can  say  that  it  is  a  pride  of  honor  to  have  been  the 
parents  of  so  noble  a  boy.    God  give  them  comfort! 

His  ambition,  I  learn,  was  to  rise  in  the  world,  and  with  the 
conjoint  efforts  of  his  parents,  to  create  a  home  where  they  could 
cease  their  professional  itineracy,  and  in  the  seer  and  yellow  leaf  have 
the  pleasure  of  a  settled  domicile.  Think  of  this  laudable  ambition! 
Could  aught  but  a  far-reaching  mind  conceive  so  honorable  a  plan,  the 
outgrowth  of  pure  parental  devotion? 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack  was  a  boy  who  impressed  you,  and  the  world 
has  sustained  a  loss  by  the  direful  calamity  that  carried  him  into 
eternity. 

Let  us  say,  peace  to  his  ashes,  and  in  this  Easter  tide  of  budding 
flowers  place  a  chaplet  on  his  green  grave  and  drop  a  tear  to  the 
memory  of  that  brilliant  mind  and  good  name. 

To  you,  his  classmates  of  the  High  School,  let  me  say  your  history 
is  illumined  by  having  in  your  rank  and  file  a  genius  disguised  by 
years.  Foster  his  memory,  and  as  you  see  with  the  eye  of  imagina 
tion  his  broken  form  lying  cold  and  stiff  within  the  charnal  house,  let 
your  benediction  be, 

"May  flights  of  angels  sing  thee  to  thy  rest." 


A  memorial  service  for  Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  the  High  School  stu 
dent  who  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  the  eleventh  story  of  the  Betz 
Building,  in  Philadelphia,  last  November,  was  held  on  the  afternoon 
of  March  29th,  at  the  Walnut  Street  Theater.  Had  the  boy  lived  until 
that  day  he  would  have  celebrated  his  sixteenth  birthday.  The  exer 
cises  commenced  with  a  prayer  by  Rev.  C.  Lockwood  Fulforth,  which 
was  followed  by  hymns  sung  by  a  double  quartet  from  Durnont's 
Minstrels.  An  address  on  behalf  of  the  faculty  by  Charles  A.  Her- 
rick,  of  the  Central  High  School  staff,  followed.  Arthur  J.  Henry,  a 
classmate,  spoke  on  behalf  of  the  class  to  which  Arthur  belonged. 
Andrew  McFarland,  principal  of  the  Northeast  Grammar  School,  and 
Dr.  T.  Chalmers  Fulton,  President  Emeritus  of  the  Cooper  Literary 
Institute,  each  made  an  address.  Mrs.  K.  G.  Brennan  rendered  two 
solos,  accompanied  by  Hermann  D.  Cotter,  who  acted  as  organist. 
Bro.  John  Jack,  the  lad's  father,  read  letters  to  condolence  from  various 
lodges  of  the  Order  of  Elks,  which  had  been  sent  to  him,  and  also  read 
extracts  from  manuscripts  which  his  son  had  written.  He  said,  that  in 
order  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  Mint,  about  which  he  was  to 


126  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

write  an  essay,  the  boy  had  taken  his  stand  at  the  lofty  window. 
Captain  Jack  said  he  made  this  statement  to  clearly  disprove  any 
suggestion  of  a  possible  suicide.— The  Pacific  Elk,  Portland,  Oregon. 

*    *    # 

PLUNGED  TO  AN  AWFUL   DEATH. 

A  Boy  Falls  from  the  Twelfth  Floor  of  the  Betz  Building:— Fearful 
Fate  of  an  Actor's  Son. 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  a  High  School  Boy,  and  Youngest  Son  of  Captain 
John  Jack,  Goes  Up  to  the  Twelfth  Floor  of  the  Betz  Buiiding,  and 
In  Some  Way  Falls  Out  of  a  Rear  Window—His  Body,  Whirling 
Through  the  Air,  First  Striking  the  Roof  of  the  Mint,  and  is  then 
Dashed  to  Pieces  on  the  Stone  Pavement  Below  —  He  was  a  Very 
Bright  Boy,  and  there  Seems  to  be  No  Motive  for  Suicide. 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  a  tall  and  robust  boy,  not  yet  16  years  old, 
and  the  youngest  son  of  Captain  John  Jack,  the  veteran  actor,  has 
been  living  in  this  city  for  the  past  seven  weeks  at  Mrs.  McCord's 
boarding  house,  1335  Brandy\vine  street,  while  his  mother  stopped  at 
406  Sixth  avenue,  in  New  York,  and  his  father  was  playing  on  the 
road  in  Joseph  Jefferson's  company.  He  came  here  to  attend  the 
High  School,  and  has  been  a  diligent  student  there  ever  since  it  opened 
after  the  summer  vacation. 

At  8  o'clock  yesterday  morning  young  Jack  ate  breakfast  and  left 
his  boarding  house  for  the  ostensible  purpose  of  exchanging  a  book 
at  the  Philadelphia  Public  Library.  He  turned  up  at  the  Chestnut 
street  entrance  to  the  Betz  Building  a  little  before  10  o'clock  and  took 
an  elevator  to  the  twelfth  floor.  No  one  knew  him,  and  the  elevator 
conductor  afterwards  recalled  him  only  by  the  fact  that  he  wore  his 
overcoat  collar  turned  up  high  about  his  neck.  Business  was  very 
brisk  in  the  big  office  building  about  that  time. 

DROPPED  125  FEET  TO  DEATH. 

The  boy  went  straight  into  the  lavatory  on  the  rear  of  the  twelfth 
floor  and  closed  the  door  behind  him.  From  this  room  a  narrow  win 
dow,  five  feet  above  the  floor,  looks  down  on  the  roof  of  the  Mint 
and  a  paved  courtyard  twenty-four  feet  wide,  which  separates  the 
Mint  from  the  Betz  and  Girard  buildings.  This  courtyard  is  125  feet 
below  the  window,  and  the  building  rises  straight  up  from  it  to  a 
height  which  makes  a  man  dizzy  to  look  at. 

Shortly  after  Jack  went  Into  the  lavatory  his  body  fell  out  of  the 
window  and  shot  forward  and  downward  through  the  air  with  fearful 
velocity.  He  seemed  to  have  jumped  from  the  ledge,  for  he  crossed  the 
twenty-four  feet  separating  the  rear  of  the  Betz  Building  from  the 
Mint  during  the  first  eighty  feet  of  his  descent,  and  struck  a  window 
in  the  mansard  roof,  breaking  the  glass  into  a  thousand  pieces.  Then 
the  body  rebounded  and  fell  down  into  the  courtyard  with  a  noise  that 
sounded  like  an  explosion.  During  Its  flight  it  had  turned  round  and 
round  half  a  dozen  times. 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND   TRIBUTES.  12? 

A  hundred  people  were  quickly  attracted  to  the  spot  where  the 
mangled  remains  lay,  and  blood  flowed  down  the  courtyard  in  a  little 
stream  almost  to  Chestnut  street.  The  body  had  struck  on  its  back 
and  shoulders,  and  was  crushed  in  so  far  that  the  arms  were  driven 
a  long  ways  out  of  their  sockets.  Nearly  every  bone  was  fractured 
in  one  or  more  places  and  death  must  have  been  instantaneous. 

NO  MOTIVE  FOR  SUICIDE. 

From  papers  found  on  the  body  it  was  speedily  identified,  and  E. 
T.  Swift,  who  resides  at  the  Brandy  wine  street  house,  came  down  to 
claim  it.  A  wagon  from  J.  Lewis  Good's  undertaking  establishment 
removed  it,  and  all  signs  of  the  tragedy  were  cleared  away.  William 
C.  McKean,  Jr.,  agent  for  the  building;  Superintendent  Camp,  and 
Deputy  Wolf,  of  the  Coroner's  office,  investigated  the  case,  but  they 
could  learn  nothing  more  than  that  the  boy  had  gone  up  to  the  twelfth 
floor,  and  had  in  some  way  fallen  down  to  his  awful  death. 

Word  was  telegraphed  to  his  father,  who  is  playing  at  Buffalo, 
and  to  his  mother.  George  Reed,  of  the  Walnut  Street  Theater,  brother 
of  Roland  Reed,  the  actor,  is  the  boy's  uncle,  and  his  only  relative 
at  present  in  this  city.  Mr.  Reed  admitted  young  Jack  to  the  theater 
on  Friday  night,  and  the  boy  seemed  to  be  in  the  best  of  health  and 
spirits.  So  far  as  is  known,  there  was  no  possible  reason  for  his  kill 
ing  himself,  and  Mr.  Reed  says  he  is  sure  that  his  sudden  death  was 
the  result  of  an  accident. 

The  boy's  mother  was  Annie  Firmin,  at  one  time  a  well-known 
actress,  and  he  was  born  in  Paris.  He  was  of  quiet,  studious  habits, 
and  was  not  given  to  going  out  much.  He  had  no  business,  so  far  as 
is  known,  in  the  Betz  Building,  and  had  never  been  there  before.  The 
Coroner  will  hold  an  inquest  next  week.— Philadelphia  newspaper  clip 
ping. 

*    *    * 

STORY  OF  THE  ACCIDENT-TOLD  BY  THE  FATHER. 

The  High  School  building  being  inadequate  to  accommodate  the 
increase  of  school  attendants,  his  and  several  other  classes  of  the 
Freshmen  occupied  a  building  at  Broad  and  Mt.  Vernon  Streets.  The 
new  High  School  building  on  the  west  side  of  Broad  Street  was  grow 
ing  in  proportion,  and  of  much  interest  to  the  scholars,  particularly 
to  those  of  the  Annex. 

One  of  the  young  Professors  (Lacy,  I  think),  conversing  with 
Arthur  about  the  new  structure,  surprised  at  the  intelligence  he  dis 
played  on  the  subject,  suggested  that  he  should  prepare  a  school  paper 
on  Philadelphia,  and  some  of  her  prominent  buildings,  saying  it  would 
be  good  practice,  and  he  was  sure  he  would  do  himself  credit.  The 
boy,  proud  of  such  encouragement,  thanked  him  for  the  suggestion, 
and  at  once  gave  it  his  earnest  attention.  The  evening  before  the 
disaster,  at  his  home,  he  had  an  argument  with  a  lad,  the  son  of  the 
family  he  lived  with,  about  the  height  of  the  Betz  Building,  in  the 
course  of  which  the  lad,  whose  father  had  been  a  former  employee 


128  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

in  the  U.  S.  Mint,  which  adjoins  the  Beta  Building,  spoke  of  what 
could  be  seen,  looking  from  the  Betz,  through  a  window  of  the  Mint, 
where,  he  said,  you  could  see  the  working  of  the  U.  S.  Mint  as  plainly 
as  if  you  were  in  the  Mint  itself.  No  doubt  this  dwelt  in  Arthur's 
mind  as  a  good  point  to  see  and  realize,  that  it  might  be  made  a 
dramatic  point  in  his  description  of  the  Betz,  in  his  school  paper. 
This  information  we  get  from  a  lady  boarder  who  was  present  at  the 
supper  table  during  the  talk  between  the  father,  son  and  Arthur. 

Doubtless  this  was  the  object  of  his  visit  on  that  fateful  morning; 
having  to  pass  the  building  on  his  return  from  the  library,  he  evidently 
entered  it,  and,  ascending  by  the  elevator  to  the  twelfth  story,  to  find 
only  a  barren  hallway,  his  innate  modesty  restrained  him  from  enter 
ing  an  office  with  a  request  to  have  a  look  from  its  window,  but  on  the 
eastern  end  of  the  hall  is  a  "woman's"  toilet  and  on  the  floor  below  a 
"men's,"  so  he  must  have  descended  and  entered  it  In  it  are  two  win 
dows  five  feet  from  the  floor.  Below  the  window  on  the  right  is  a 
sink  two  and  a  half  feet  high,  and  from  it  to  the  window  on  the  left 
the  marbles  that  separate  the  urinals  reach  to  the  sills  of  the  windows. 
That  above  the  sink  was  filled  with  architect's  blue  maps  to  be  de 
veloped  in  the  sunlight,  so,  to  get  a  look  from  the  left  window  he  had 
to  raise  himself  and  perch  upon  the  marble  slabs.  The  windows  are 
28  inches  wide,  and  the  lower  sash,  when  raised,  makes  an  opening 
of  24  inches.  To  get  a  view,  from  his  stature  (he  was  5  feet  10%  inches 
tall),  he  would  have  to  crouch  his  person.  In  doing  this  from  his  peril 
ous  perch  on  the  marble  slab,  as  he  looked  out  and  perhaps  dazed  and 
made  giddy  by  the  act,  he  lost  his  balance,  and  in  trying  to  save  him 
self,  his  hands  grasping  for  the  wall  may  have  given  his  body  a  mo 
mentum  that  sent  it  forward  and  across  the  intervening  space  that 
separates  the  buildings,  striking  his  feet  on  the  sill  of  the  window  of 
the  Mint  The  silly  story  of  the  sight  to  be  seen  therein  had  led  him  to 
make  the  desperate  and  fatal  venture — the  rebound  from  this  concus 
sion  sent  his  body  back  across  the  space,  striking  with  his  left  elbow 
the  corrugated  iron  flume,  making  a  deep  indentation  therein,  and 
falling  through  the  wire  screen  into  the  basement  area,  where  it  was 
found. 

The  wearing  the  collar  of  his  coat  turned  up  was  a  boyish  fad  that 
I  had  noticed  in  him. 

This  minute  interpretation  of  the  cause,  and  the  accident,  is  made 
to  refute  the  scandalous  and  heartless  charge  of  the  Superintendent 
of  the  Betz  Building,  that  the  lad  had  got  out  of  the  window,  and, 
standing  on  the  iron  braces  that  support  the  ventilator  flume,  had 
jumped  to  his  destruction.  His  audacity  was  properly  rebuked  by  the 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  Igg 

Coroner  at  the  Inquest,  and  he  is  thus  mentioned,  that  he  may  be  held 
in  detestation  by  the  reader  for  his  cruel  action.  Even  after  the  con 
clusion  of  the  inquest,  when  approached  by  a  friend  of  the  boy's 
family,  with  a  hope  that  the  owners  might  be  induced  to  place  a  guard 
against  a  recurrence  of  the  dreadful  calamity,  he  ordered  him  away 
with  the  remark:  "The  boy  jumped  out  of  the  window.  We  don't 
want  any  cranks  around  here."  "A  dog's  obeyed  in  office." 

To  the  noble  and  efficient  Coroner,  Samuel  C.  Ashbridge,  and  bis 
undertaker,  Mr.  I.  Lewis  Goode,  the  respect  and  thanks  of  the  family 
are  given  for  their  care  and  humane  disposition  of  the  remains  until 
claimed  by  his  parents. 

The  recognition  of  the  disaster  and  the  respect  paid  the  youth  by 
the  Teachers  of  the  Central  High  and  North  East  Grammar  Schools, 
in  placing  the  flags  at  half  mast  and  dismissing  the  pupils  that  they 
might  pay  their  respect  to  their  late  companion,  the  floral  and  written 
tributes  of  his  Class,  D.  6,  together  with  the  tender  and  Christian  eulo- 
gism  of  President  Mr.  Ellis  Thompson,  of  the  Central  High  School,  all 
contribute  to  assuage  the  grief -stricken  family,  in  displaying  the  esteem 
in  which  their  noble  son  was  held. 

To  Philadelphia  Lodge,  No.  2,  B.  P.  O.  Elks,  the  father,  a  brother 
Elk,  returns  his  fraternal  thanks  for  similar  floral  and  personal  atten 
tion,  and  in  whose  burial  lot  the  mortal  remains  of  his  precious  son  are 
consigned  to  rest  in  peace  along  with  what  was  mortal  of  his  father's 
deceased  friends  and  associates. 


ONLY  THE  DEATH  OF  A  BOY. 

From  the  Pacific  Elk,  Portland,  Oregon. 

Yes,  he  was  only  a  boy.  Though  endowed  with  all  the  graces  of 
character  that  fit  a  true  Elk  for  the  mission  of  the  order,  his  youth 
precluded  him  from  membership.  He  met  death  in  Philadelphia,  and  as 
soon  as  the  sad  news  reached  Portland,  the  lodge  home  of  his  father, 
the  great  heart  of  Elkdom  in  Oregon's  metropolis  went  out  across  the 
Rockies  to  the  far  off  Quaker  city  in  sympathy.  The  death  we  chron 
icle  and  which  furnishes  a  few  thoughts  on  the  principles  of  the  brother 
hood  to  which  it  is  a  princely  privilege  to  belong,  is  that  of  Arthur 
Pirmin  Jack,  son  of  Bro.  John  Jack,  the  well  known  actor,  and  Annie 
Firmin  Jack,  his  wife.  Arthur  was  killed  in  a  fall  from  the  Betz 
Building.  The  Philadelphia  lodge  of  Elks  heard  of  the  sad  death,  and 
at  once  extended  the  practical  charity  that  is  preached  only  in  its 
practice.  No  questions  were  asked.  It  mattered  not  whether  the 
young  man  was  an  Elk  or  not.  There  was  an  opportunity  to  lend  a 


ISO  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

helping  hand  and  that  was  sufficient  The  hands  of  Elks  were  ex 
tended  in  brotherly  sympathy  to  the  bereaved  parents,  the  hands  of 
Elks  covered  the  casket  with  garlands,  the  hands  of  Elks  bore  the 
lifeless  clay  to  the  cemetery  and  there  consigned  it  to  the  grave  in  an 
Elk's  burial  plot.  This  is  the  religion  of  the  Benevolent  and  Protective 
Order  of  Elks;  this  Is  true  Elkdom. 

The  funeral  of  the  unfortunate  lad  was  largely  attended  by  mem 
bers  of  the  Philadelphia  lodge  of  Elks,  teachers  and  classmates  from 
the  Central  High  School,  ,n  which  he  was  a  student,  and  friends. 
The  funeral  ceremonies  were  of  an  exceptionally  impressive  character, 
and  the  final  parting  between  the  bereaved  parents  and  their  son  was 
as  affecting  as  it  was  pathetic.  Tears  of  sympathy  gushed  involun 
tarily  down  the  solemn  faces  of  all  present,  though  it  was  not  until  the 
father,  John  Jack,  leaned  over  the  coffin  to  take  a  farewell  look  of  his 
dead  son  as  the  minister  urew  towards  the  close  of  his  consoling  words, 
and  the  composed  mother  knelt  uown  before  the  casket,  pressing,  as 
she  did,  the  cold  and  rigid  hand,  that  the  pent-up  feeling  of  the  assem 
bled  company  broke  forth. 

The  life-like  form  of  the  young  student  reposed  in  a  white  casket, 
very  appropriately  decorated,  at  the  foot  lying  a  tribute  of  roses  and 
chrysanthemums  formed  into  pillars  and  wide-open  gate,  from  his  co- 
workers — the  members  of  the  High  School  freshman  class.  Around  the 
room  were  scattered  other  tributes  of  affection,  many  of  them  from  the 
loving  hands  of  Elks.  The  funeral  sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev. 
Chas.  L.  Fulforth,  pastor  of  the  Church  of  the  Messiah,  after  which 
Prof.  Ellis  Thompson,  president  of  the  Boys'  High  School,  said  a  few 
words  on  behalf  of  the  school,  its  faculty  and  its  pupils. 

During  Professor  Thompson's  address,  Bro.  Jack  stood  at  the  right 
of  the  casket,  against  the  flower-strewn  mantel-piece,  while  the  mother 
of  the  student  knelt  before  the  coffin  with  the  stiff  hand  entwined  in 
hers. 

"It  is  only  out  of  justice  that  I  speak  now,"  broke  forth  Mr.  Jack, 
in  a  demonstrative  way,  after  the  prayer  had  been  delivered.  He 
smoothed  the  high  brow  of  his  son,  and  between  tears  and  sighs  fal 
tered,  "he  was  good  and  kind;  he  was  our  only  boy,  but  in  his  heart 
beat  a  kindly,  lovable  spirit,  and  he  would  have  gone  forth  in  the 
world  as  my  only  legacy— a  legacy,  though,  which,  perhaps,  would 
have  wiped  out  many  of  his  loving  father's  shortcomings." 

The  tears  trickled  fast  down  Mr.  Jack's  cheeks  as  he  moved  away, 
and  after  a  few  inaudible  words  from  Mrs.  Jack,  they  left  the  side 
of  the  casket.  The  interment  took  place  in  the  Elk's  plot,  at  Mt.  Moriah 
cemetery,  one  of  the  first  places  of  sepulture  dedicated  to  the  order. 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  131 

Eulogies  to  the  memory  of  the  deceased  were  delivered  not  only  in 
the  lodge  room  of  Portland  lodge,  but  at  the  annual  memorial  services 
December  1st  as  well.  Furthermore,  a  committee  consisting  of  Bros. 
D.  Solis  Cohen,  R.  E.  French  and  A.  R.  Ockerman,  was  appointed  by 
the  lodge  to  draft  resolutions  extending  to  Bro.  Jack  the  sympathy  of 
his  brothers  in  Portland,  and  expressing  the  thanks  of  the  lodge  for  the 
sympathy  extended  and  services  rendered  by  Philadelphia  lodge. 

The  resolutions  sent  Bro.  Jack  are  as  follows: 
John  Jack,  Esq.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Dear  Sir  and  Brother: — Ac  the  regular  meeting  of  the  Portland 
Lodge,  No.  142,  B.  P.  O.  E.,  held  Thursday  evening,  Nov.  28th,  the 
undersigned  were  appointed  a  committee  ^o  express  to  you  the  heart 
felt  sympathy  of  every  member  of  the  lodge  which  goes  out  to  you  in 
the  great  bereavement  which  has  fallen  upon  you  and  your  esteemed 
wife.  It  will  be  impossiole  for  us  to  find  words  to  express  all  that  we 
feel.  We  shall,  therefore,  not  make  the  attempt,  but  will  simply  as 
sure  you  that  on  the  evening  mentioned  and  also  at  the  memorial 
services  last  Sunday  afternoon,  our  thoughts  were  with  you,  and  we 
appreciated  the  greatness  of  the  trial  through  which  the  Divine  has 
seen  fit  to  make  you  pass. 

Your  son,  during  his  residence  in  Portland,  was  known  to  a  great 
many  of  us  and  loved  by  every  one  who  knew  him.  His  manliness 
of  character  was  his  chief  characteristic,  and  we  feel  that  he  goes 
before  his  God  with  a  pure  soul  and  an  unpolluted  mind,  fit  to  receive 
all  the  grace  and  favor  that  there  awaits  those  who  have  finished  their 
earthly  career.  His  preceptor,  Dr.  Hill,  on  Sunday  afternoon  spoke 
beautifully  of  his  character,  and  we  assure  you,  our  brother,  that 
away  off  on  this  Pacific  Coast,  during  all  your  trouble,  there  were  those 
whose  hearts  bled  with  yours.  Fraternally  yours,  etc. 

This  acknowledgment  was  sent  to  Philadelphia  lodge: 
Philadelphia  Lodge,  No.  2,  B.  P.  O.  E.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Dear  Sirs  and  Brothers:— At  a  regular  meeting  of  Portland  Lodge, 
No.  142,  B.  P.  O.  E.,  held  Thursday  evening,  Nov.  28th,  the  undersigned 
were  appointed  a  committee  to  express  to  you  the  sincere  thanks  of 
our  lodge  for  the  sympathy  and  services  which  you  extended  to  our 
brother,  John  Jack,  in  his  late  bereavement.  We  assure  you,  brothers, 
that  we  appreciate  your  actions  as  an  evidence  of  that  fraternity 
which  binds  us  strongly  together,  despite  all  space  and  distance,  and 
we  feel  that  every  heart  throb  which  you  gave  to  our  dear  brother  in 
his  terrible  affliction  was  an  expression  of  the  spirit  which  we  will 
always  bless  and  be  characteristic  of  our  beloved  order. 

Fraternally  yours,  etc. 


132  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

Bishop  Scott  Academy,  J.  W.  Hill,  M.  D.,  Principal. 

Portland,  Oregon,  Jan.  13th,  1896. 
Mr.  John  Jack,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

My  Dear  Sir:— I  was  pleased  to  receive  your  letter  of  last  December, 
and  to  know  that  you  had  received  any  consolation  from  the  fact  that 
I  had  been  called  upon  to  say  a  few  words  in  recognition  of  the  noble 
qualities  of  your  departed  son  at  the  Lodge  of  Sorrows  recently  held 
by  the  Elks.  I  made  no  notes  or  memoranda  at  that  time,  and  the 
enclosed  copy  is  reproduced  from  memory.  Without  the  surrounding 
circumstances,  I  cannot  do  as  well  in  writing  as  I  did  in  speaking  to 
the  Lodge.  Spoken  words  at  their  very  best  are  cold,  but  written 
words  are  ever  more  so.  Under  the  circumstances,  it  is  the  best  I 
can  do. 

I  wish  to  assure  you  and  your  wife  of  my  most  hearfelt  sympathy 
in  this,  your  hour  of  affliction,  and  to  express  my  own  pleasure  at 
being  able  to  assist  you,  even  in  the  slightest  degree,  to  lighten  your 
load  of  sorrow.  Sincerely  yours, 

(Signed)    J.  W.  HILL. 


DR.  J.  HILL'S  ADDRESS  AT  THE  MEMORIAL  SERVICE  OF  PORT 
LAND  LODGE,  NO.  142,  B.  P.  O.  ELKS,  HELD  SUNDAY, 
NOV.  28,  1895,  AT  PORTLAND,  OREGON- 

Exalted  Ruler  and  Members  of  the  Lodge:— 

When  called  upon  last  evening  by  your  Exalted  Ruler  to  make  a 
short  address,  I  hesitated  before  complying  from  no  motive  except 
that  I  felt  I  was  scarcely  able  to  do  full  justice  to  the  subject  and  to 
myself. 

My  first  acquaintance  with  Master  Jack  began  in  the  school  year 
of  1891,  when  the  lad  was  brought  to  my  school  by  his  noble  father, 
John  Jack.  My  impression  of  the  lad  at  first  sight  was  favorable, 
and  the  feeling  gradually  grew  stronger  until  it  ripened  into  an  attach 
ment  second  only  to  that  of  a  father  for  his  son,  that  which  an  earnest, 
conscientious  teacher  must  feel  for  a  proper  boy  placed  under  his  care 
and  guidance. 

If  I  could  mention  any  one  trait  which  belonged  peculiarly  to  this 
lad  to  distinguish  him  from  others  of  his  age,  I  would  say  that  it 
was  his  earnestness  of  purpose  and  his  high  sense  of  honor  in  all  his 
dealings.  He  had  a  lovely,  loving  and  lovable  disposition,  and  soon 
made  himself  a  general  favorite  with  all  whom  he  came  in  contact 


MEMORIAL   SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  133 

with.  This  characteristic  of  earnestness  was  most  marked  in  all  his 
dealings,  and  he  seemed  old  and  dignified  beyond  his  years.  It  seemed 
to  me,  and  I  say  it  with  all  reverence,  as  though  he  had,  even  at  that 
age,  been  marked  by  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  all  for  his  own,  and  now 
we  find  that  He  has  called  him  to  Himself. 

No  man  having  any  trust  in  the  Supreme  Ruler  can  feel  within 
his  own  soul  that  such  lives  as  this  of  which  I  am  now  speaking  are 
lived  in  vain,  or  that  they  end  in  the  grave,  but  must  feel  that  they 
are  only  an  introduction  to  a  higher  and  better  life. 

None  but  a  father  who  has  seen  his  heart's  delight  fade  away  be 
fore  his  very  eye  can  realize  the  depth  of  sorrow  that  your  friend  has 
been  called  upon  to  bear. 

To  the  sorrowing  father  and  mother,  and  to  you,  their  friends,  I 
can  only  add  that  this  great  sorrow  will  be  softened  by  time,  and  that 
it  will  gradually  fade  into  a  blessed  memory,  and  that  they  will 
realize,  as  time  goes  on,  that  they  have  only  cast  an  anchor  on  the 
other  side. 


At  a  meeting  of  the  Freshman  Class  of  the  Central  High  School, 
held  November  18th,  1895,  the  following  resolutions  were  adopted: 

Whereas,  It  has  pleased  Almighty  God  in  His  inscrutable  wisdom 
•to  remove  from  a  happy  and  useful  career  among  us  our  beloved  class 
mate,  Arthur  Firmin  Jack  . 

Resolved,  That  while  bowing  in  submission  to  the  Divine  Decree, 
we  desire  to  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing  our  sense  of  the  loss 
that  has  befallen  us. 

Although  associated  but  a  short  time,  we  had  learned  to  appreciate 
and  value  rightly  the  many  good  and  manly  qualities  which  had  en 
deared  him  to  us  as  a  Classmate,  and  which  rendered  his  future  so 
hopeful  and  promising.  The  manly  sincerity  of  his  character,  the 
sturdy  self-reliance  of  his  disposition,  his  wide  and  varied  knowledge, 
and  his  Christian  courtesy  have  not  been  without  influence  upon  us, 
and  the  memory  of  his  life  will  be  truly  cherished  by  those  with  whom 
he  worked. 

Be  it  further  resolved,  That  a  copy  of  these  resolutions  be  sent 
the  bereaved  parents  as  an  expression  of  the  sincere  sympathy  of  the 
Freshman  Class;  that  they  be  entered  at  large  upon  the  minutes  of 
the  Class,  and  that  they  be  published  in  the  C.  H.  S.  Mirror. 

H.  IRWIN, 
A.  HENRY, 
A.  JAMES, 

Philadelphia.  Committee. 


134  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

Philadelphia,  December  5th,   1895. 

Whereas,  Our  member,  John  H.  Jack,  has  sustained  a  great  per 
sonal  and  irreparable  loss,  in  the  sudden  and  accidental  loss  of  his  dear 
and  beloved  son,  Arthur  Firmin  Jack, 

Be  it  Resolved,  That  this  school,  the  Cooper  Literary  Institute, 
of  Philadelphia,  extends  its  unanimous  sympathy  to  him  and  his  dear 
wife,  in  this  the  hour  of  their  bereavement  and  trial. 

And  be  it  Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  these  resolutions  be  entered 
upon  the  minutes,  and  a  written  copy  be  sent  to  the  afflicted  parents. 
Attest: 

President,  ORMAND  RAMBO. 
Secretary,  JOHN  B.  LOMAS. 

T.  CHALMERS  FULTON, 
RUDOLPH  KINDIG. 


IN  MEMORIAM. 

(From  the  Official  Organ  of  the  Associated  Alumni  of  the  Central  High  School,  Phila 
delphia,  Pa.,  "The  Mirror,"  December,  1895.) 

"The  sudden  and  awful  death  of  Arthur  F.  Jack  threw  a  pall  of 
sadness  over  the  entire  school.  Young  Jack  had  just  entered  the 
school,  but  already  had  won  the  love  of  his  fellows  and  the  good  will 
of  the  faculty.  All  who  knew  him  liked  him,  and  the  frightful  acci 
dent  which  caused  his  death  was  a  shock  to  all;  but  God  in  His  infinite 
wisdom  chose  to  take  him  to  Himself,  and  all  we  can  do  is  to  pray  that 
when  our  time  comes  we  may  leave  as  good  a  record  as  did  this  boy. 

The  Mirror  extends  its  sincere  sympathy  to  the  bereaved  family, 
and  laments  with  them  the  death  of  one  so  young  and  yet  so  full  of 
promise." 

DEATH  OF  ARTHUR  JACK. 

Through  a  touching  letter  received  on  Monday  from  John  Jack 
by  our  townsman,  Hon.  R.  L.  Grove,  we  learn  of  the  death  through  a 
terrible  accident  of  the  lad  whose  name  appears  above.  He  was  a 
winsome  lad,  15  years  of  age,  and  of  promising  talents.  Many  of  our 
readers  will  remember  him  only  as  a  bright-eyed,  cooing  baby,  as  he 
was  trundled  about  the  village  by  his  devoted  parents  in  his  infancy, 
and  deeply  will  they  sympathize  with  the  nearly  heart-broken  parents 
whose  brightest  star  has  departed  from  their  lives. 

The  lad  met  his  death  by  a  fall  from  near  the  top  of  the  Betz  Build 
ing  at  Philadelphia  while  endeavoring  to  obtain  a  view,  of  which  he 
was  to  write  in  an  essay  being  prepared  in  connection  with  his  school 
duties,  he  being  a  student  of  the  Central  High  School  of  that  city. 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  185 

Many  of  their  old-time  Waukesha  friends  will  sympathize  deeply  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jack  in  their  great  sorrow. — Waukesha,  Wis.,  Freeman, 
Dec.  5th,  1895. 

*    *    * 

THE  JACK  MEDAL  OF  HONOR. 

Mr.  John  Jack,  the  distinguished  actor,  has  prepared  a  medal  of 
honor  in  memoriam  of  his  son,  Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  who  met  his  death 
about  a  year  ago  as  the  result  of  a  most  unfortunate  accident.  The 
young  man  was  a  most  promising  student  at  the  Central  High  School, 
and  his  father  has  determined  to  make  some  fitting  recogniton  of  the 
esteem  and  affectionate  regard  of  his  classmates  by  offering  to  the 
most  successful  student  this  handsome  medal  of  honor.  It  will  be 
presented  at  a  meeting  of  the  class  to  be  held  next  week  to  Joseph 
Morgenthein  Herzberg. 

AETHUR  FIRMIN  JACK  MEDAL. 

GIVEN  BY  THE  FATHER  IN  MEMORY  OF  HIS   DEAD  SON— A 
LETTER  FROM  THE  WINNER. 

The  Arthur  Firmin  Jack  medal  of  honor  for  the  Central  High 
School,  awarded  Joseph  M.  Herzberg,  is  a  very  handsome  tribute  pre 
pared  by  Captain  John  Jack  in  memory  of  his  son.  By  keeping  his 
name  associated  with  his  class  the  father  hopes,  while  honoring  his  boy, 
to  make  his  remembrance  an  incentive  for  his  companions  to  persevere 
in  their  studies  and  so  continue  a  factor  in  the  class  until  its  commence 
ment  in  '99,  when  a  more  costly  trophy  shall  be  presented  to  the 
senior  who  makes  the  record  of  the  class. 

The  family  of  young  Herzberg  write  that  "it  is  an  auspicious  omen 
for  Joseph  that  he  is  honored  with  that  beautiful  token  of  love  of  a 
father  for  his  sou.  Having  been  parted  from  his  father,  whose  death 
only  occurred  a  few  months  ago,  this  noble  gift,  which  he  gained  by 
his  studies,  will  remind  his  constantly  of  a  father's  devotion." 

The  recipient  writes  to  Captain  Jack:  "I  fully  appreciate  your 
kindness  to  D.  6  Class.  As  in  life  he  was  our  friend,  so  in  death  he 
will  be  nearer  enshrined  in  our  hearts." 

Young  Herzberg  is  in  St.  Louis,  whei'e  he  will  pass  his  vacation, 
and  the  presentation  of  the  medal  has  been  postponed  until  the  class 
reassembles  in  September.  The  medal  was  designed  by  the  father. 

DIPLOMAS  FOR  HIGH  SCHOOL  BOYS. 

John  Jack,  the  actor,  presented  to  Joseph  M.  Herzberg,  president  of 
the  freshman  class,  of  which  his  son,  who  recently  died,  was  a  member, 


186  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

a  medal  with  a  picture  of  his  son  engraved  thereon,  and  this  in 
scription: 

"Medal  of  Honor,  Freshman  Class,  Central  High  School,  Phila 
delphia,  May,  1896." 

Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  It  will  he  remembered,  fell  from  the  tenth 
story  of  the  Betz  Building  some  months  ago,  and  was  instantly  killed. 
He  was  a  most  promising  lad,  and  a  great  favorite  with  the  professors 
and  his  classmates. 

HIS  LAST  VISIT. 

The  father  said:— 

I  had  arranged  that  on  the  Friday,  Nov.  1st,  two  weeks  before  the 
dreadful  occurrence,  that,  after  school  that  day  he  should  come  to  us 
in  New  York,  that  he  might  be  measured  for  a  suit  of  clothes  and  be 
provided  with  an  overcoat  and  a  reefer  which  he  had  set  his  heart 
upon.  He  came,  and  his  boyish  love  was  evident  in  his  every  action. 
On  the  Sunday  his  buoyant  spirit  had  full  sway,  in  affectionately 
caressing  the  various  members  of  the  family,  his  dying  Grandmother, 
his  affectionate  Aunts  and  his  hopeful  Mother,  were  especial  objects  of 
his  love,  while  the  bald  spot  upon  my  aging  head  felt  the  impress  of  his 
filial  love  in  kisses  that  hourly  left  their  influence  on  the  heart  and 
spirit  of  a  fond  and  loving  parent. 

If  there  is  an  intuition  vouchsafed  us,  unknowingly,  to  anticipate 
the  end,  that  noble  soul  was  filled  with  it,  though  it  took  the  form  of 
happiness— happiness  made  more  impressive  by  the  experience  of  an 
unusual  separation. 

In  the  evening  we  accompanied  him  to  the  R.  R.  Station.  As  the 
boat  was  entering  the  dock  at  Jersey  City,  he,  his  mother  and  her 
sister  were  advancing  from  the  cabin,  I  following.  Casting  his  eye 
about,  he  observed  me,  and  coming  to  me  placed  his  arm  about  my 
neck  with  the  remark,  "Pop,  I  have  had  a  splendid  visit."  I  replied, 
"Arthur,  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so."  "Oh,  I  am  very  comfortable 
over  there  (Philadelphia),  and  they  do  everything  to  make  me  so,  but 
I  was  getting  a  little  lonely— but  this  visit  has  made  me  very  happy, 
and  I  go  back  to  my  school  work  with  pleasure.  Give  me  a  kiss,  Pop., 
another  one"— and  so,  with  his  arm  about  my  neck  we  passed  on  to  the 
wharf  and  to  the  station,  where,  finding  that  the  train  scheduled 
45  minutes  later  preceded  the  one  then  starting  in  reaching  Phila 
delphia,  we  enjoyed  another  brief  hour  with  the  dear  one.  We  were 
permitted  to  enter  the  gate,  and  after  an  affectionate  leave  taking, 
his  mother  having  placed  him  in  a  seat  in  the  car,  the  train  started, 
we  throwing  kisses  to  each  other,  his  beautiful  face  was  lighted  with 
love,  his  sparkling  eyes  beaming  through  the  dark  lashes  that  en- 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  187 

circled  them,  glanced  towards  us,  all  that  the  affectionate  heart 
prompted,  while  his  manly  impulse  to  restrain  the  tears  that  unbidden 
filled  them,  was  apparent  in  the  firm  compression  of  his  lips— thus, 
with  the  outward  speeding  of  the  train  he  passed  from  our  sight.  As 
I  looked  into  the  void  before  me,  with  his  visage  alone  in  my  memory, 
an  impulsive  thought  depressed  me,  "should  anything  happen  to  him?" 
With  a  determined  effort,  that  has  ever  been  my  support  when  danger 
threatened,  whether  it  was  in  a  storm  at  sea  or  in  the  raging  violence 
of  an  action  in  battle,  I  cast  it  aside,  and  so,— my  beloved  became  a 
memory — a  father's  dream  had  vanished. 

A  fortnight  later,  in  the  grim  environment  of  an  undertaker's  room 
I  was  gazing  on  all  that  was  mortal  of  my  pride,  my  hope,  inanimate, 
beautiful  and  noble  in  death,  the  lofty  brow  that  betokened  a  mind 
filled  with  love  and  ambition,  was  a  stilled  mask,  the  spirit  that  had 
controlled  it  was  fled  forever  and  the  possibilities  of  a  useful  life, 
shrouded  in  the  grim  mystery  of  the  future.  Let  us  hope  that  a  perusal 
of  his  work  may  lead  to  such  action  in  others  as  will  prove  his  brief 
career  in  life  had  not  been  in  vain. 

*  »  * 
EXTRACT  FROM  HIS  LAST  LETTER. 

1335  Brandywine  Street,  Philadelphia,  Nov.  10th,  1895. 
Dear  Mama  and  Pop,— 

The  day  is  dreary  and  rainy,  but  I  am  contented  enough.  Am 
afraid  New  York,  is  the  same,  still  I  hope  you  are  all  in  good  spirits. 

This  is  your  last  day  in  New  York,  for  some  time  to  come,  isn't 
it,  Pop?  You  must  be  very  busy  preparing  for  the  road.  Hope  your 
departure  does  not  make  either  of  you  downhearted,  though  you  can 
hardly  help  regretting  it.  l^ope  we  can  all  be  together  some  day  and 
remain  so. 

Sent  the  following  financial  account  to  brother  Ned. 
(Note.— His  half-brother,  Edwin  B.  Jack,  had  undertaken  to  furnish 
him  with  funds  during  his  school  term.) 
$25.00  Reed.  Nov.  8th. 

$4.00  Board,  due  last  Tuesday. 
.61  Wash,  2  stiff  shirts  made  it  extra  large. 
.05  Soda  water.  .    . 

.05  Foolscap  paper. 
.10  Belt  mended  on  old  unmended  side. 


4.81 
$20.19  on  hand. 


188  MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES. 

From  this,  ten  cents  more  should  be  subtracted,  for  I  paid  ten  cents 
car  fare  out  to  West  Philadelphia  to  see  a  schoo.  chum  out  there  yes 
terday.  Will  account  for  this  in  next  "financial  report." 


Spoke  to  McCords  about  gas,  they'll  have  the  pipe  plugged  up  and 
give  me  a  bracket  lamp  instead. 

Best  of  luck  to  "Rip"  and  "Derrick"  and  to  all,  from 

Your  Icving  son, 

ARTHUR  FIRMIN  JACK. 

Extracts  from  his  parents'  letters  received  by  him  that  morning 
and  found  upon  his  person,  and  made  more  precious  by  the  life  blood 
of  the  dear  object  of  their  solicitude. 

Nov.  15,  1895. 
My  Dear  Son:— 

Your  two  postals  came  to-day.  In  regard  to  writing,  I  would  say  I 
only  regarded  your  postals  as  a  loving  remembrance  of  each  day, 
and  they  cheered  my  life  and  heart  as  God's  sunshine  always  does. 
Well,  there  may  not  be  a  personal  God,  but  there  is  surely  a  divine  and 
tender  nature  which  never  fails  ore  who  is  true  to  it.  One  would  do 
well  to  throw  themselves  more  for  sympathy  upon  nature  than  upon 
man.  In  any  and  every  trouble,  I  have  had  to  commune  with  nature 
to  soothe  my  soul.  Never  write  a  line  to  me  unless  your  heart  prompts 
it.  It  only  hurts  me  to  feel  that  anything  you  could  do  for  me  would 
not  be  spontaneously  from  your  heart. 

I  have  been  suffering  from  a  severe  cold.  I  did  not  intend  writing 
to  either  you  or  your  father  in  regard  to  it.  This  is  a  fault  I  have,  of 
writing  brightly,  or  not  kt  all.  I  have  an  insane  objection  to  writing 
dismals,  in  consequence,  all  my  life,  have  been  misunderstood  from  my 
very  mother  to  yourself.  *  *  *  Neither  of  you  have  written 
an  extra  line  of  tenderness  saying,  "our  dear  one  may  be  suffering 
from  separation  of  the  two  nearest  and  dearest  to  her,  she  is  sur 
rounded  by  disease,  sickness,  poverty— and  at  times  hardness.  She 
is  a  woman— who  lives  on  affection  and  symp^tiiy  and  has  so  little 
near  her. 

I  will  write  her  a  dear,  sweet  letter  expressing  all  the  love,  tender 
ness  and  sympathy  I  feel  and  owe  her,  God  bless  her."  I  used  to  write 
thus  to  my  mother  and  Grandmother.  *  *  *  sent  two 

postals  of  yours  to  Papa  and  wrote  two  letters.       *       *       *      I  feel 
that  you  and  he  do  Lot  quite  understand.  MAMA. 


MEMORIAL  SERVICES  AND  TRIBUTES.  189 

To  this  letter  he  wrote  and  mailed  that  fatal  morning,  Saturday, 
Nov.  16th,  on  a  postal: 
Dear  Mama: — 

You  must  not  think  I  write  unlovingly  or  mechanically,  but  to-day 
I  am  going  to  send  you  a  big,  fat  letter.  Lovingly, 

AETHUE. 
*    *    * 

FROM  HIS  FATHER. 

Albany,  N.  Y.,  Nov.  13th,  1895. 
My  Dear  Son:— 

I  have  not  yet  had  any  of  your  daily  missives.  This  is  a  series  of 
ovations  to  Mr.  Jefferson.  Last  night  and  night  before,  played  to  over 
forty-one  hundred  dollars  on  the  two  nights.  Monday  he  lectured  at 
Vassar  College,  and  last  night  at  Smith's  (lady)  Academy.  I  enclose 
sample  of  flowers.  It  is  a  very  pleasant  company.  Your  papa, 

JOHN  JACK. 

To  which  he  replied: 
Dear  Pop:— 

Eecd.  your  postal  this  (Saturday)  morning.  Have  written  daily 
to  mama.  I  hope  she  forwards  to  you.  Poor  Mamsey  has  a  bad  cold. 
Eecd.  letter  from  her  to-day  with  your  postal.  Lovingly, 

AETHUE. 

Both  of  these  cards  were  stamped  at  the  Philadelphia  office  10:30, 
Nov.  16th,  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  after  he  had  joined  his  God. 


BIOGRAPHY. 


141 


ARTHUR  FJRMIN  JACK. 
Aged  9  months. 


143 


BIOGRAPHY. 


Arthur  Firmin  Jack  was  born  in  Paris,  France,  March  30th,  1880, 
while  his  parents,  John  Jack,  and  Annie  Firmin  Jack,  were  returning 
from  their  professional  tour  around  the  world. 

He  was  a  splendidly  developed  child,  his  mother's  physician,  Dr. 
Herbert,  brother  of  Lord  Arnichon,  the  late  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland, 
congratulated  her  upon  having  given  birth  to  the  finest  specimen  of 
boy  babyhood  he  had  ever  brought  into  the  world. 

He  displayed  extraordinary  reasoning  faculties  early  in  childhood, 
was  carefully  reared,  and  besides  home  tuition,  he  was  allowed  every 
opportunity  for  school,  that  his  parents'  nomadic  life  permitted.  In  an 
address  before  his  class  at  the  North  East  Grammar  School,  Phila 
delphia,  he  said  he  had  gathered  such  education  as  he  possessed  in 
thirteen  different  schools  throughout  the  United  States,  and  Canada,  in 
periods  of  a  few  weeks  to  a  few  months,  the  only  full  term  he  had 
enjoyed  was  at  the  Bishop  Scott  Academy,  at  Portland,  Oregon,  where 
he  came  out  at  the  head  of  his  class  with  the  highest  average  in  the 
school. 

Serving  one  month  less  than  the  full  term  at  the  North  East  Gram 
mar  School,  he  passed  through  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  grades,  and 
was  admitted  in  the  spring  of  '95  to  the  Central  High  School,  where, 
though  less  than  three  months  a  student,  he  had  won  the  attention  and 
respect  of  the  faculty  and  the  love  and  admiration  of  his  fellow 
students. 

As  Secretary  of  his  Class  D.  C.  Association,  he  had  formulated  a 
constitution  and  a  formula  of  laws  for  its  guidance  which  we  think 
worthy  of  a  place  in  this  brief  review  of  his  life. 

CONSTITUTION  OF  SECTION  D.  6,  OF  CENTRAL  HIGH  SCHOOL 
PHILADELPHIA,  PENNSYLVANIA. 

ARTICLE  I. 

NAME. 

The  name  of  this  organization  shall  be  the  Section  D.  6.  Class 
Association. 


146  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

AUTICLE  II. 
OBJECT. 

The  object  of  this  association  shall  be  to  improve  its  members  in 
the  art  of  public  speaking,  conducting  affairs  in  a  deliberative  assembly, 
and  to  promote  the  physical,  as  well  as  mental,  health  of  all  members 
by  the  formation  of  athletic  clubs  to  contest  in  healthful  sports. 

ARTICLE  III. 
MEMBERS. 

Sec.  1.  Membership  in  this  association  is  confined  exclusively  to 
the  members  of  the  Freshmen  Class,  Section  D.  6,  of  the  Central  High 
School,  in  the  City  of  Philadelphia,  Pennsylvania. 

Sec.  2.  Members  can  be  suspended  and  expelled  by  a  two-thirds 
vote,  the  president  presiding  impartially  as  judge  during  trial.  Counsel 
and  witnesses  may  appear  at  such  a  trial  for  and  against  the  accused, 
all  testimony  being  carefully  weighed. 

Sec.  3  .Anyone  about  to  become  a  member  must  affix  his  signature 
to  the  constitution  to  complete  his  initiation. 

ARTICLE  IV. 
OFFICE  ,RS. 

Sec.  1.  The  officers  of  the  club  shall  consist  of  a  President,  a  Vice- 
President,  a  Secretary,  n  Treasurer,  a  Mirror  Correspondent  and  a 
Class  Representative. 

Sec.  2.  All  officers  shall  be  elected  at  the  first  meeting  of  each 
school  year. 

Sec.  3.  It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  President,  Vice-President,  Secre 
tary,  Treasurer,  Mirror  Correspondent,  and  Class  Representative  to 
faithfully  discharge  the  duties  required  of  such  officers  in  an  associa 
tion  of  this  character.  Their  duties  are  explained  explicitly  in  the 
Rules  of  Procedure. 

Sec.  4.  Any  member  of  the  association,  in  good  standing,  is  eligible 
to  election  to  any  office  for  one  term  of  one  year,  extending  from  the 
election  at  the  first  meeting  of  the  school  year  until  the  first  meeting 
of  the  next  school  year. 

Sec.  5.  No  officer  can  succeed  himself,  but  is  eligible  to  any  other 
office  he  has  not  occupied. 

Sec.  6.    An  officer  can  hold  but  one  office  at  a  time. 

Sec.  7.  The  line  of  succession,  in  case  of  removal  of  officers  by  any 
cause,  is  as  follows: 

Vice-Presldent  succeeds  President. 

Secretary  succeeds  v  ice-President. 

Treasurer  succeeds  Secretary. 

Mirror  Correspondent  succe-dc  Treasurer. 

Class  Representative  succeeds  Mirror  Correspondent. 

No  officer  is  forced,  however,  to  leave  his  old  position  for  the 
higher  one  unless  he  desires  to  do  so. 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  147 

Sec.  8.  All  officers  hold  their  positions  on  their  good  behavior. 
For  misdeeds  they  may  be  removed  from  office,  suspended  or  expelled. 
If  suspended,  it  is  understood  that  the  officer  has  lost  his  position, 
and  when  he  is  re-instated  is  but  a  member. 

ARTICLE  V. 
VOTING. 

Sec.  1.  Plurality  votes  shall  elect  all  officers  and  pass  all  motions, 
orders  and  resolutions  but  those  of  suspension  of  members,  expulsion 
of  members,  re-instatement  of  members  and  special  taxes. 

Sec.  2.    A  special  tax  motion  may  be  carried  by  a  two-thirds  vote. 

Sec.  3.  A  two-thirds  vote  will  re-instate  a  suspended  or  expelled 
member. 

ARTICLE    VI. 
FINANCES. 

Sec.  1.  The  monthly  membership  fee  shall  be  five  cents,  which 
shall  be  payable  at  the  first  meeting  in  each  school  month. 

Sec.  2.    These  dues  shall  form  the  treasury  of  the  association. 

Sec.  3.  Any  member,  who  shall  not  have  paid  his  dues  on  or  be 
fore  the  second  regular  meeting  of  the  month,  shall  be  notified  by 
the  secretary,  that  at  the  next  regular  meeting  if  he  is  still  delinquent 
he  will  be  expelled. 

Sec.  4.  The  Treasurer  shall  be  responsible  for  all  funds  placed  in 
his  keeping  by  this  association,  and  shall  not  pay  out  anything,  unless 
by  the  association's  vote  to  do  so. 

ARTICLE  VII. 
MEETINGS. 

Sec.  1.  The  regular  meetings  of  this  association  shall  be  on  the 
Friday  afternoons  of  each  month  during  term  time. 

Sec.  2.  Special  meetings  may  be  called  by  the  President,  and 
he  shall  call  a  special  meeting  at  the  request  in  writing  of  three  mem 
bers  of  the  association. 

ARTICLE    VIII. 
AMENDMENTS. 

This  constitution  may  be  altered  or  amended  by  a  two-thirds  vote 
of  the  members,  notice  of  such  alteration  or  amendment  having  been 
given  at  a  previous  meeting. 

RULES  OF  PROCEDURE. 

ARTICLE  I. 
OFFICERS  AND  THEIR  DUTIES. 

Section  1.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  President  to  call  the  meeting  to 
order  at  the  appointed  time,  to  preside  at  all  meetings,  to  announce 


148  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

the  business  before  the  assembly  in  its  proper  order,  to  state  and  put 
all  questions  properly  brought  before  the  assembly,  to  preserve  order 
and  decorum,  and  to  decide  all  questions  of  order  (subject  to  an  appeal). 
When  he  "puts  a  question"  to  vote,  and  when  speaking  upon  an  appeal, 
he  should  stand;  in  all  other  cases,  he  can  sit.  In  all  cases  where 
his  vote  would  affect  the  result,  or  where  the  vote  is  by  ballot,  he  can 
vote.  When  a  member  rises  to  speak,  he  should  say  "Mr.  President," 
and  the  President  should  reply,  "Mr.  A."  (giving  name).  He  should 
not  interrupt  a  speaker  so  long  as  the  speaker  is  in  order,  but  should 
listen  to  his  speech,  which  should  be  addressed  to  him  and  not  to  the 
assembly.  The  President  should  be  careful  to  abstain  from  the  ap 
pearance  of  partisanship,  but  he  has  the  right  to  call  another  member 
to  the  chair  while  he  addresses  the  assembly  on  a  question;  but  when 
speaking  he  does  not  leave  the  chair. 

Section  2.  The  Secretary  should  keep  a  record  of  the  proceedings 
of  the  association.  It  is  not  his  duty  to  record  discussions,  but  only 
the  resolutions,  motions,  orders,  or  whatever  the  action  of  the  Society 
may  be  called.  He  should  record  every  vote,  stating  whether  the  mo 
tion  or  resolution,  which  had  been  offered  was  adopted  or  rejected. 

It  is  sometimes  customary  in  the  records  to  say  that  the  question 
was  discussed  by  Messrs.  A.,  B.  and  C.  in  the  affirmative,  and  D.,  E. 
and  F.  in  the  negative. 

It  is  necessary  for  a  Secretary  to  keep  constantly  in  mind,  in  mak 
ing  his  records,  it  is  the  fact  that  he  is  to  record,  not  what  was  said, 
but  what  was  done. 

The  constitution,  and  the  rules  of  procedure  should  be  written 
in  a  book  with  blank  pages,  writing  only  on  the  right-hand  page.  The 
left-hand  page  should  be  left  blank,  on  which  amendments  to  the  arti 
cles  opposite  may  be  entered,  if  there  should  be  any.  Each  amend 
ment  should  have  recorded  with  it  a  reference  to  the  date  and  page 
of  the  minutes  where  the  action  of  the  association  adopting  such 
amendment  is  recorded. 

It  is  customary  to  insert  the  constitution  and  rules  of  procedure 
in  the  first  part  of  the  association  book,  after  which  should  be  re 
corded  the  names  of  the  members.  Following  these  names  the  pages 
can  be  used  for  the  minutes  of  the  association. 

Section  3.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  treasurer  to  collect  and  hold  the 
funds  belonging  to  the  association,  and  to  pay  out  money  on  the  order 
of  the  association. 

The  treasurer  should  make  a  monthly  report  to  the  association, 
which  should  contain  a  statement  of  the  amount  of  money  on  hand 
at  the  beginning  of  the  year  and  month,  and  amount  received  during 
the  year  and  month,  including  the  sources  through  which  the  money 
has  come;  and  a  statement,  in  brief,  of  the  amount  of  money  paid 
out  by  order  of  the  association  during  the  year  and  month,  and  the 
balance  on  hand  at  the  end  of  the  month.  This  report  is  usually  re 
ferred  to  an  auditing  committee,  consisting  of  one  or  more  persons, 
whose  duty  it  is  to  examine  the  treasurer's  books  and  vouchers,  and 
make  a  certificate  as  to  the  correctness  of  his  report.  The  form  of 
auditor's  report  is  usually  something  like  the  following: 

"I  hereby  certify  that  I  have  examined  the  accounts  and  vouchers 
of  the  above  report  of  A.  J.,  the  treasurer  of  the  Section  D.  G  Class 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  149 

Association,  and  find  them  correct,  and  that  the  balance  on  hand  is, 
etc.,"  stating  the  amount  on  hand. 

It  is  usual  after  the  auditor's  or  auditors'  report,  to  accept  the 
treasurer's  report. 

Sec.  4.  The  Mirror  Correspondent's  duty  is  to  correspond  with 
the  monthly  "Mirror,"  our  school  paper,  reporting  our  section  news. 

Sec.  5.  The  class  representative's  duty  is  to  report  the  announce 
ments  made  in  the  lecture  room  of  the  main  building  to  the  section 
in  the  annex,  and  he  alone  is  able  to  hear  the  announcements.  He 
should  have  a  note  book  to  note  all  subjects  as  soon  as  they  are  an 
nounced,  thus  preventing  confusion  and  mistakes. 

In  the  absence  of  any  of  the  above  officers  an  officer  pro  tern 
(pro  tempore,  or  for  the  present)  is  elected  to  serve;  if,  however,  an 
officer  is  suspended  or  expelled,  he  loses  his  office,  and  a  successor 
must  be  chosen  by  election. 

Sec.  6.  In  small  societies  there  is  less  need  of  committee,  for  the 
body,  as  a  rule,  can  act  as  a  whole  in  a  matter.  But  in  some  businesses 
it  is  necessary  to  have  them,  especially  when  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
business  on  hand.  These  sub-committees  (for  the  assembly  is  really 
the  committee  of  the  whole)  examine  matters  referred  to  them,  and 
report  to  the  entire  body. 

The  first  named  member  of  a  committee  is  generally  its  chair 
man.  It  is  his  duty  to  call  the  committee  together  and  to  preside  at 
their  meetings.  If  he  is  absent,  it  is  customary  for  the  next  member 
in  order  to  preside.  A  majority  of  a  committee  should  constitute  a 
quorum.  The  committee  should  not  act  unless  a  quorum  be  present. 
The  committee  may  make  a  majority  and  minority  report,  if  the  mem 
bers  do  not  agree.  Individual  reports  may  be  made  if  there  is  a  total 
division.  When  a  majority  and  minority  report  have  been  presented 
to  a  body,  it  is  competent  for  any  member  to  move  the  acceptance 
of  the  majority  report.  It  is  proper  for  some  other  member  to  move 
to  substitute  the  minority  for  the  majority  report.  The  minority  re 
port  cannot  be  acted  upon  except  by  such  motion  to  substitute  it  for 
the  majority.  When  the  committee's  report  has  been  read  and  ac 
cepted,  the  committee  is  discharged,  without  further  motion,  unless 
their  report  be  a  report  of  progress. 

ARTICLE    II. 
TRANSACTION  OF  BUSINESS. 

Sec.  1.  Every  order,  resolution  or  motion  to  be  submitted  to  a 
deliberative  assembly  should  be  in  writing  and  having  been  read 
should  be  handed  to  the  President.  The  following  will  illustrate  the 
form  of  a  resolution: 

"Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  Section  D.  6,  Class  Association  are 
hereby  tendered  to  Mr.  (name  and  reason  for  resolution  stated). 

Sec.  2.  A  member  desiring  to  offer  a  resolution  or  make  a  motion 
should  rise  from  his  seat  and  address  the  President  by  his  title  "Mr. 
President,"  who  immediately  recognizes  him,  providing  he  is  the  first 
or  only  one  to  rise.  In  recognition,  the  President  announces  the  ris 
ing  member's  name.  The  member  then  having  the  floor,  says  "I  move 
the  adoption  of  the  following  resolution,"  which  he  reads  and  hands 


160  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

to  the  president.  If  some  one  else  seconds  the  motion,  the  President 
says:  "It  has  been  moved  and  seconded  that  the  following  resolution 
be  adopted."  He  then  reads  the  resolution  and  says:  "Are  there  any 
remarks  upon  the  resolution?"  (He  says  motion  if  it  is  one.  Here 
will  follow  a  discussion  of  the  resolution  or  motion  pro  and  con,  if 
the  members  should  be  so  disposed.  If  no  one  rises  to  speak  when  the 
question  is  thrown  open  for  discussion,  or  it  having  been  discussed 
and  the  President  thinks  the  debate  is  closed  he  says:  "Are  you 
ready  for  the  question?"  If  no  one  rises  to  speak,  he  puts  the  question 
in  a  form  similiar  to  the  following:  "The  question  is  upon  the  adop 
tion  of  the  resolution,  which  you  have  heard  read.  Those  of  you  who 
are  in  favor  of  adopting  this  resolution  will  manifest  it  by  saying 
'Aye,'  those  contrary  minded  'No.'  It  is  a  vote  and  the  resolution  is 
adopted."  If  the  majority  vote  in  the  negative,  the  President  will 
state  that  the  motion  is  lost  instead  of  adopted.  If  he  is  in  doubt, 
he  will  say:  "The  chair  is  in  doubt;  those  in  favor  of  the  adoption 
of  the  resolution  will  rise  and  stand  until  counted."  The  President 
or  Secretary  makes  the  count.  "Those  opposed  will  rise,"  the  Presi 
dent  commands  at  the  conclusion  of  the  first  count.  At  the  conclu 
sion  of  this  count  the  President  announces  the  result. 

Besides  his  studies  at  the  Grammar  School  during  the  term  of 
1894-95,  he  had  written  three  volumes  entitled  "Chats  with  my  Friend 
the  Brahmin,"  the  purpose  of  this  work  is  alluded  to  in  his  introduc 
tion  to  the  volume,  and  the  loss  of  two  volumes  of  which,  by  some 
sneak  thief,  has  been  a  great  disappointment  to  his  parents  while  at 
the  same  time  it  is  a  serious  loss  to  those  seeking  information  on 
the  subject  of  India. 

During  the  same  term,  while  only  fourteen  years  of  age  he  had 
written  his  story  of  "Chet,  a  Newspaper  Reporter  on  the  Expounder," 
a  Southern  daily,  to  which  the  reader  is  referred. 

When  scarcely  five  years  of  age,  1885,  he  visited  the  South,  with 
his  parents,  and  had  ten  months'  experience  in  many  of  the  towns 
and  cities  of  the  Gulf  States.  The  information  and  results  of  obser 
vation  then  gathered  is  the  basis  of  his  depiction  of  Southern  life 
as  contained  in  his  story. 

His  memory  was  somewhat  remarkable,  for  in  the  wanderings 
of  his  parents  he  would,  with  companions,  run  through  his  adventures, 
from  leaving  New  York  City,  in  1885,  up  to  his  crossing  to  the  Pacific 
Coast,  in  1888,  on  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad,  in  which  he  would 
enumerate  each  town  or  city  he  had  visited,  giving  the  population 
of  each  place,  the  back  country,  and  their  products,  resources,  etc., 
that  supplied  it,  and  never  would  he  omit  mentioning  a  single  one,  in 
fact,  without  preparation,  he  was  able  to  go  from  where  he  was  at 
the  time,  back  to  his  departure  from  New  York  City,  without  missing 
a  town  or  fact. 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  151 

His  great  amusement,  during  his  play  time,  was  building  railroad 
towns;  with  the  debris  of  the  streets  or  roads  he  would  formulate 
a  town  with  all  the  adjuncts  of  buildings,  railroads,  hotels,  etc.,  that 
go  to  make  up  such  locations. 

His  impulses  were  all  good,  his  ambitions  were  to  benefit  humanity 
by  a  course  of  rectitude,  honor  and  industry. 

When  eight  years  of  age,  walking  with  his  mother  on  the  prairie 
near  a  Canadian  town,  while  the  sheet  lightning  was  fitfully  illuminat 
ing  the  heavens,  he  said  to  her  "That  is  God  throwing  kisses  to  his 
children." 

We  do  not  think  he  ever  spoke  ill  of  a  human  being;  if  wronged, 
or  ill  treated,  he  always  had  an  excuse  for  his  wronger. 

He  displayed  a  remarkable  command  of  language  from  his  earliest 
speaking  days.  He  inclined  to  syllabilic  words.  When  he  would  slip 
up  in  pronunciation,  he  evidently  noted  his  misslip,  for  if  asked  to 
repeat  what  he  had  said,  after  a  little  though  he  would  reply,  using 
a  synonym,  which  invariably  would  be  correct,  never  by  any  chance 
attempting  to  repeat  that  which  he  had  blundered  in. 

Boy-like,  he  was  fond  of  playing  soldier,  with  his  father.  One  day 
in  '90,  in  San  Francisco,  he  visited  the  Cyclorama  of  "Gettysburg," 
wherein  was  shown  the  desperate  conflict  of  the  wheatfield.  Looking 
up  wistfully  to  his  father,  he  said,  "Pop,  isn't  that  murder?"  His 
father  replied,  "Yes,  my  child.  War  is  legalized  murder."  From  that 
time  his  soldier  ardor  was  abated.  Not  that  he  was  faint-hearted 
or  in  any  degree  a  coward,  but  the  humanizing  impulses  of  his  gentle 
nature  prevailed  over  the  brutalizing  influence  of  the  warlike  spirit. 

He  once  said:     "Pop,  I  am  a  free-thinker." 

"Indeed!    In  what  respect?" 

"Why,  I  never  regard  a  man  from  the  standpoint  of  the  religion 
he  professes,  or  in  which  he  has  been  reared.  It  is  his  personal  quali 
fications  and  actions  that  command  my  respect." 

He  possessed  excellent  dramatic  instincts,  and  would  have  de 
veloped  into  an  actor  of  no  mean  ability.  He  played  the  children's 
parts  in  emotional  play  with  rare  discretion.  Upon  two  occasions, 
when  his  parents,  producing  "Under  the  Gaslight,"  and  Shakespeare's 
"King  Heny  the  Fourth,"  were  without  the  ladies  to  play  "Peach- 
blossom"  in  the  former,  and  the  "Hostess"  in  the  latter,  he,  though 
only  twelve  years  of  age,  undertook  the  parts  from  rehearsal,  playing 
them  perfect  at  night.  As  "Peachblossom,"  his  effort  was  equal  to 
any  actress  they  ever  had  in  the  character,  while  as  the  "Hostess"  he 
played  with  a  discretion  and  intelligence  scarcely  reached  by  actresses 
of  acknowledged  ability. 


152  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

In  entertainments  given  by  his  parents,  in  the  scenes  of  "Money- 
penny,"  from  the  "Long  Strike,"  he  impersonated  Retsy,  and  the  Tele 
graph  Operator,  very  effectively;  and  sang  songs  and  ballads  with 
excellent  voice  and  ability. 

MUNICIPAL   RESPONSIBILITY  FOR  ACCIDENTS. 

Is  there  municipal  responsibility?  Or  does  the  apathy  of  the  gen 
eral  public  condone  the  lack  of  it?  We  have  made  a  glorious  close 
to  a  "War  of  Humanity"  in  relief  of  suffering  races.  And  are  assum 
ing  grave  responsibilities  in  their  behalf,  and  for  the  freedom  of  in 
dividual  worship.  While  it  is  "humane"  to  stay  the  "car  of  juggernaut." 
Among  religious  zealots,  would  not  "humanity"  gain  force  and  estab 
lish  purity  of  intention  were  we  to  strive  to  save  the  blood  of  the 
innocents  daily  sacrificed  on  our  streets  in  the  wild  pursuit  of  Mam 
mon,  to  which  the  following  correspondence  is  relevant: 


Merchants'  House, 

Philadelphia,  Pa.,  June,  1896. 
Hon.  Chas.  P.  Warwick, 

Mayor  of  Philadelphia. 

Dear  Sir: — Last  January  I  wrote  the  Director  of  Public  Safety 
regarding  a  fatal  accident  to  my  son  by  reason  of  a  fall  from  the 
eleventh  story  of  the  Betz  Building.  Claiming  the  accident  to  be 
the  result  of  criminal  carelessness  on  the  part  of  the  proprietor  of 
the  structure,  by  reason  of  leaving  unguarded  windows  placed  five 
feet  from  the  floor,  but  made  accessable  by  means  of  a  sink  2y2  feet 
high,  placed  under  one  window,  and  it,  and  the  other  window  being 
reached  by  the  marbles  that  separate  the  urinals  which  terminate  the 
halls  on  each  floor  or  story  connected  by  the  elevators.  The  great 
danger  from  the  unguarded  windows  rests  in  the  fact  that  their  posi 
tion,  at  a  height  that  hides  the  danger  from  view,  and  the  facilitv 
with  which  they  can  be  reached,  by  means  of  the  sink  and  marbles, 
being  invitations  to  the  unwary,  or  thoughtless,  who  cannot  realize 
their  peril  until  in  it,  and  then  too  !ate  to  save  themselves  from  the  dis 
aster  that  follows.  These  windows  are  about  2Sy2  inches  wide,  and  the 
sash,  when  raised,  leaves  an  opening  of  about  25  inches  in  height. 

I  claim  that  although  these  structures  are  private  property,  the 
uses  of  the  rooms  and  the  business  of  their  hundreds  of  occupants 
drawing  visits  of  thousands  daily,  make  the  entrances  and  hallways 


ARTHUR  FIRMAN  JACK. 
Aged  16  months. 


153 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  155 

on  each  floor,  to  all  intent  and  purpose  public  highways,  a  way  for 
all  passengers  without  restriction,  and  the  responsibility  for  the  pro 
tection  and  safety  of  the  passenger  rests  with  the  said  proprietor. 

Mr.  Director:— I  am  impelled  to  call  your  attention  to  this  new 
condition  that  has  arisen  by  the  erection  of  these  lofty  structures, 
the  extent  of  whose  menace  to  public  safety  is  yet  an  unsolved  quan 
tity,  because  I  feel  assured  that  your  department  is  the  natural  chan 
nel  through  which  to  seek  investigation  that  may  lead  to  legislation, 
or  legal  interference  to  compel  compliance  with  a  due  regard  for  public 
safety. 

These  edifices  are  really  speculative  ventures  created  for  private 
gain  or  corporative  advertisement,  and  they  have  been  erected,  as  al 
leged,  in  this  case,  at  least,  as  stupendous  monstrosities  in  disfigure 
ment  of  a  costly  architectural  beauty  in  a  public  building. 

Whilst  they  continue  isolated  they  leave  many  questions  unsettled. 
Should  they  grow  in  number  and  any  special  locality  become  con 
gested  with  their  increase,  there  is  a  great  probability  of  their  being 
a  menace  to  public  health  by  their  antagonism  to  hygienic  precautions, 
tions. 

The  method  of  their  construction  renders  their  substantiality  a 
question,  only  to  be  determined  when  a  contingency  may  arise  that 
will  test  their  quality.  Their  durability  and  the  solidity  of  the  struc 
ture  being  dependent  upon  the  metal  framework  being  able  to  resist 
the  action  of  the  elements  they  may  have  to  contend  with,  that  may 
cause  corrosion  of  the  metal  and  so  weaken  the  support,  or,  in  case 
of  an  external  or  internal  fire,  may  not  the  stone  work  of  the  walls 
be  destroyed,  exposing  the  metal  to  a  heat  they  may  be  unable  to 
withstand,  and  thus  cause  a  collapse  of  the  mass,  to  the  injury  of  life 
and  property  in  the  vicinity.  All  these  possibilities  make  them  a  sub 
ject  for  serious  consideration  and  ceaseless  watching,  if  the  public 
safety  is  to  be  maintained.  And  every  suggestion  of  danger  that  may 
arise  should  be  considered,  and  an  effort  made  to  provide  against. 

Regarding  the  entrance  and  hallways  to  these  buildings  as  public 
highways,  and  all  reasonable  minds  must  so  regard  them,  the  unguard 
ed  and  easily  approached  windows  in  the  lavatories  of  the  different 
stories  of  the  Betz  Building  are  a  public  menace  and  a  constant  dan 
ger,  inviting  as  they  do,  the  unwary  to  seek  a  view,  ignorant  of  the 
peril  in  which  they  may  place  themselves  by  so  doing.  Protecting 
such  windows,  so  situated,  with  a  bar  or  bars  becomes  necessary, 
and  should  be  compelled;  and  in  considering  this,  these  openings 
should  not  be  confounded  with  the  ordinary  windows  in  the  different 
compartments,  the  latter  being  in  the  usual  positions  to  which  we 


166  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

are  accustomed,  the  danger  can  be  seen  as  they  are  approached,  and 
precaution  or  care  taken  by  those  who  seek  them,  those  complained 
of  being  placed  above  the  line  of  vision  do  not  suggest  such  precaution, 
and  so  continue  a  menace  to  safety,  and  should  be  made  secure  from 
the  possibility  of  such  an  accident  which  lost  the  precious  life  of  my 
talented  son. 

That  calamity  was  not  the  result  of  a  boyish  hazard  or  idle  curios 
ity,  but  came  in  his  search  for  material  for  school  work,  and  to  fit 
himself  for  it,  he  had  made  his  visit  in  the  simple  line  of  a  duty.  Rec 
ognizing  the  responsibility,  they  close  the  ways  to  the  roof  of  the 
building,  but  leave  these  lavatory  windows  unguarded,  and  to  escape 
responsibility,  with  the  terrible  disaster  that  befell  my  boy,  the  cus 
todians  of  the  building  persist,  with  a  heartlessness  which  seems  in 
born  with  avarice,  in  charging  that  the  act  was  a  premeditated  one, 
thus  scandalizing  the  virtuous  character  of  a  deserving  and  industrious 
youth,  heaping  additional  distress  upon  his  bereaved  parents,  and  de 
fying  the  popular  cry  for  protection. 

I  am  aware  in  asking  for  a  favorable  consideration  of  this  com 
plaint,  that  I  am  venturing  upon  delicate  grounds,  for  those  to  whom 
my  complaint  may  be  referred  may  hesitate  to  subscribe  to  my  views, 
as  to  do  so  may  seem  a  reflection  on  those  whose  duty  should  have  an 
ticipated  such  a  peril  and  provided  against  it.  Still,  I  believe  that 
public  safety  should  be  paramount,  and  human  error  not  be  maintained 
at  the  sacrifice  of  permanent  security.  Respectfully  yours, 

JOHN  JACK. 

The  above  his  honor,  Mayor  Warwick,  made  reply  that  the  Director 
of  Public  Safety,  Mr.  Beitler,  had  made  a  careful  investigation,  and 
could  not  see  that  anything  could  be  done.  And  that  he  (the  Mayor), 
himself,  had  made  a  personal  examination,  and  regretted  that  he 
could  do  nothing  in  the  matter. 

To  which  I  responded  as  follows: 


Merchants'  House, 

Philadelphia,  Pa.,  July,  1896. 
Hon.  Chas.  F.  Warwick,  Mayor  of  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Dear  Sir:— Yours  of  uie  20th  inst.  at  hand,  and  I  thank  you  for 
your  consideration  of  my  complaint.  I  had  not  been  favored  with 
the  views  of  Director  Beitler,  but  In  an  interview  with  Mr.  Mylert, 
of  the  Board  of  Building  Inspection,  I  received  orally  the  result  of 
his  inspection,  on  which  the  Directors'  views  were  evidently  founded. 
In  my  judgment,  the  Inspectors'  conclusions  were  lame  and  impotent. 


ARTHUR  FIRMAN  JACK 

At  the  age  of  11. 
Bugler  of  the  Sons  of  Veterans  of  the  Civil  War. 


157 


BIOGRAPHICAL,  159 

I  conclude  from  the  Director's  report  and  your  own  observations  that 
the  matter  is  outside  the  action  of  the  "Board,"  for  want  of  jurisdic 
tion,  that  there  is  no  law  extant  under  which  they  can  act.  This 
implies  that  it  is  only  through  legislation  the  evil  complained  of  can 
be  remedied. 

So  far,  I  have  been  unable  to  elicit  from  the  authorities  one  ex 
pression  that  could  be  construed  to  imply  that  a  danger  existed  in 
the  conditions  complained  of,  not  one  that  might  sustain  an  appeal 
for  legislation  on  the  subject. 

In  '64,  while  I  was  in  command  of  the  Provost  Guard  of  this  city, 
a  soldier  under  the  influence  of  liquor  was  arrested  as  a  straggler 
by  the  Guard,  and  confined  in  the  Barracks  at  Fifth  and  Buttonwood 
Streets.  In  the  morning,  suffering  from  the  delirium  effect  of  his  de 
bauch,  his  actions  brought  upon  him  the  taunts  of  his  fellow  prisoners. 
These  so  excited  him  that,  in  a  paroxism  of  frenzy  he  dashed  by  the 
guard  on  duty,  leaped  through  the  window  on  the  third  floor  of  the 
building,  and  was  killed  instantly  by  coming  in  contact  with  the 
stoop  and  pavement  below. 

Immediately  we  had  constructed  an  iron  bar  cage  around  the  in 
terior  of  the  prison  room,  rendering  a  recurrence  impossible.  This 
course  was  approved  by  the  military  authorities,  who  recognized  the 
responsibility  of  protecting  the  soldiers  even  when  guilty  of  dereliction 
in  the  line  of  duty.  "Though  in  the  trade  of  war  they  had  slain  men," 
they  recognized  the  claim  of  humanity  and  obeyed  it.  Shall  it  be  said 
at  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century,  in  this  city,  where  was  pro 
mulgated  the  charter  proclaiming  that  "all  men"  are  endowed  by  their 
Creator  with  certain  inalienable  rights,  among  which  are  "Life,  liberty 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,"  and  at  a  moment  when  a  National 
Convention  asserts  that  "American  citizens,  *  *  *  must  be  abso 
lutely  protected  at  all  hazards  and  at  any  cost,"  that  private  enterprise 
may  erect  and  create  a  new  public  danger  to  "life"  without  making 
due  effort  to  guard  against  it,  that  the  authorities  are  powerless  to  en 
force  reasonable  precautions  to  avert  it.  Or  is  it  a  fact  that  the  pur 
suit  of  Mammon  has  made  us  indifferent  to  the  moral  attributes  of  our 
"fathers,"  and  that  regard  for  human  life  has  ceased  to  be  a  factor  in 
the  ethics  of  modern  government.  Respectfully  yours, 

JOHN  JACK. 

This  closed  the  correspondence. 


160  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

This  is  yellow,  but  it  is  the  yellow  sunlight  of  truth. 

BOSTON  EXPLOSION  HORROR. 

[From  the  New  York  Journal.] 

The  terrible  catastrophe  In  Boston  occasioned  by  the  explosion  of 
leaking  gas,  which  was  probably  fired  by  a  spark  from  an  electric  mo 
tor,  shows  us  how  near  the  people  of  a  great  city  stand  by  the  verge 
of  death  in  their  daily  humdrum  lives.  Seven  lives  lost  and  upward 
of  a  hundred  wounded  in  greated  or  less  degree.  Yet  there  was  not 
one  of  the  victims  who  could  foresee  the  slightest  threat  of  peril. 
It  was  like  a  bolt  out  of  a  blue  sky.  Street  excavations  in  cities  are 
commonplace;  no  one  could  have  imagined  a  great  body  of  leaking 
gas  pouring  from  a  defective  main  ready  for  instant  explosion  and 
destruction  to  life  and  prosperity. 

Man's  ingenuity  has  surrounded  his  life  with  such  a  complexity 
of  mechanical  conveniences  and  contrivances,  he  has  created  such 
an  environment  of  artifice  and  harnessed  such  tremendous  powers 
to  do  him  service,  that  one  marvels  often  at  the  relative  paucity  of 
accidents.  Railways,  machine  shops,  huge  factories,  crowded  with 
deadly  jaws  of  iron  and  steel,  streets  mined  with  combustibles  almost 
as  destructive  as  dynamite — these  are  but  a  few  examples  of  the  de 
mons  he  has  called  up  to  increase  his  ease  of  living.  That  they  some 
times  turn  and  rend  him  if  he  relaxes  his  vigilance  and  precaution  is 
not  a  matter  of  wonder. 

It  seems  to  us  that  far  less  energy  and  oversight  are  given  to  the 
prevention  of  such  evils  by  the  proper  municipal  authorities  than 
should  be.  As  a  rule,  the  guardianship  of  human  life,  by  enforcing 
the  most  careful  supervision  over  the  different  corporate  companies 
who  are  permitted  to  make  free  use  of  public  property  in  excavating 
the  streets  or  otherwise  establishing  their  plants,  is  slack.  The  de 
partments  charged  with  such  duties  are  periunctory  in  their  work 
and  continually  take  great  chances.  The  experiences  of  New  York 
in  such  matters  need  scarcely  be  cited  afresh.  Other  cities  are  as 
prolific  of  such  neglect  as  ours.  It  may  be  that  the  Boston  catastrophe 
could  not  have  been  avoided.  Certainly  there  are  times  when  it  would 
seem  that  our  demon-servants  will  take  things  in  their  own  hands, 
willy  nilly,  and  that  human  blame  can  be  nowhere  justly  attached. 
But  in  the  majority  of  instances  this  is  not  so,  and  the  real  devil  has 
no  hoof  or  horns  in  evidence. 

What  we  need  is  a  more  rigid  exercise  of  such  authority  as  exists 
already  well  organized,  and  a  breaking  away  of  municipal  manage 
ment  entirely  from  the  habit  of  bestowing  more  or  less  to  rich  com 
panies,  who  are  importunate  in  asking  favors.  A  little  of  this  would 
go  far  in  preventing  catastrophes  not  dissimilar  to  the  Boston  horror. 


OAPT.  JOHN  JACK. 

Veteran  of  the  Civil  War. 

Father  of  Arthur  Firmln  Jack. 


161 


BIOGBAPHIOAL.  itj8 

JOHN  HENRY  JACK. 

John  Henry  Jack,  born  in  Philadelphia,  February  1st,  1836.  En 
gaged  as  call  boy,  Walnut  Street  Theater,  November  15th,  1852,  en 
rolled  as  a  member  of  the  Company  February  1853,  following  season, 
in  the  Chestnut  Street  Theater,  Philadelphia.  Season  of  1854-55  was 
playing  the  First  Old  Men  in  the  Marshal  Theater,  Richmond,  Va. 
Season  of  '55-56  at  the  Holliday  Street  Theater,  Baltimore,  Md.  Played 
successive  seasons  at  Richmond,  Va.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  Philadelphia,  Cin 
cinnati,  O.,  Philadelphia,  Montreal,  Canada,  St.  Louis,  New  Orleans, 
La.,  Philadelphia,  1860-61,  during  which  time  he  supported  all  the 
leading  stars  of  the  day.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  was  managing 
a  theater  in  Wilmington,  Delaware;  when  Fort  Sumpter  was  fired  upon 
closed  his  theater,  returned  to  Philadelphia,  enlisted,  and  was  mus 
tered  into  the  service  as  Second  Lieutenant  of  the  Second  Regiment 
Pennsylvania  Reserve  Volunteer  Corps.  Took  part  in  the  battles 
around  Richmond,  and  on  the  Saturday  evening  of  Pope's  three  days' 
battles,  Second  Bull  Run,  was  seriously  wounded  at  the  front  of  the 
Regiment,  making  a  charge  to  protect  the  Old  Warrenton  Road  bridge, 
was  complimented  in  general  orders  and  promoted  Captain  for  gallant 
and  meritorious  conduct  in  action. 

While  convalescing  from  his  wounds,  he  was  assigned  for  duty 
with  the  Provost  Guard  of  Philadelphia,  in  command  of  which  he 
rendered  varied  and  important  duties.  During  the  political  excitement 
attending  the  Peace  at  any  price  movement  in  the  spring  of  1863, 
he  improvised  a  force  from  the  convalescents  in  the  hospitals  in  and 
around  Philadelphia,  making  potent  the  efforts  of  the  commanding 
officer  to  prevent  an  apprehended  riot,  the  dread  of  which  was  giving 
President  Lincoln  and  his  Cabinet  much  anxiety.  In  July  of  that  year 
with  a  similar  force  so  raised  by  him,  the  commanding  general  was 
enabled  to  put  in  force  the  draft  without  turbulence  or  riot  which  was 
threatened. 

There  are  few  actors  who  have  had  larger  experience  or  who  have 
made  more  friends  than  John  Jack.  He  is  an  artist  into  whose  work 
are  brought  the  results  of  natural  ability,  a  fine  voice  and  a  thorough 
training  upon  the  stage.  Mr.  Jack  is  a  versatile,  all-around  good  artist, 
who  does  what  is  assigned  to  him  with  conscientious  care  and  excellent 
skill;  but  it  will  probably  be  for  his  thoroughly  artistic  performance 
of  Falstaff  that  his  reputation  will  be  most  enduring.  Few  men  have 
ever  undertaken  to  play  this  difficult  role  except  in  a  perfunctory 
sort  of  way,  but  there  are  two  actors,  Mr.  Hackett,  now  deceased, 
and  Mr.  John  Jack,  who  have  made  their  names  certain  to  be  tra 
ditional,  as  memorably  fine. 


164  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

It  is  not  only  as  an  actor  that  the  people  of  Philadelphia  hold  Mr. 
Jack  in  high  regard.  There  was  a  time  during  the  war  of  the  rebellion 
when  this  city  was  threatened  with  great  dangers  by  the  treacherous 
wickedness  of  a  lot  of  sympathizers  with  the  rebels,  who  were  trying 
by  their  violent  words  to  incite  the  reckless  classes  of  the  slums  to 
resisting  by  force  the  purposes  of  the  Federal  government.  At  this 
time  Captain  Jack  was  a  young  soldier  of  the  famous  Second  Penn 
sylvania  Reserves,  who,  recovering  from  wounds  received  in  the 
second  Bull  Run  battle,  was  on  military  duty  in  this  city.  General 
Whipple  was  then  in  command  here,  and  the  following  letter  shows 
of  what  valuable  assistance  was  this  patriotic  young  officer  in  organiz 
ing  the  force  which  overawed  the  bullies,  who  were  big  in  talk,  but 
not  ready  to  meet  bayonets: 

Norristown,  Pa.,  March  25,  1894. 
Captain  John  Jack,  Philadelphia. 

Dear  Captain:  Yours  of  the  16th  iust.  was  duly  received.  I  was 
glad  indeed  to  hear  from  you,  and  your  letter  recalls  vividly  to  mind 
those  days  of  1863,  so  fraught  with  peril  to  the  peace  of  Philadelphia, 
when,  by  special  assignment  of  the  President,  Abraham  Lincoln,  I  was 
ordered  to  the  command  of  that  post,  preparatory  to  the  enforcement 
of  the  law  prescribing  the  draft— a  measure  at  that  time  strenuously 
opposed  by  a  powerful  party  of  enemies  in  our  midst;  a  party  opposed 
to  the  war,  to  the  policy  of  the  administration;  in  short,  bitterly  op 
posed  to  every  measure  that  had  been  or  might  be  taken  for  the 
preservation  of  the  Union.  I  remember  that  during  this  turbulent 
time  a  Copperhead,  or  Vallandingham,  meeting  was  called  in  Inde 
pendence  Square,  at  which  the  leaders,  backed  by  a  mass  of  their 
followers,  might  voice  their  hatred  of  Mr.  Lincoln  and  his  government. 

The  name  in  which  this  meeting  was  called  was  synonymous  with 
treason,  and  the  occasion  naturally  excited  the  gravest  apprehensions 
of  a  riot,  and  it  was  of  the  first  consequence  that  measures  should  be 
taken  to  assure  the  peace  of  the  city.  This  could  only  be  done  by 
having  ready  a  force  of  sufficient  size  to  ensure  respect  and  to  convince 
those  who  thought  to  take  advantage  of  the  situation  and  attack 
the  property  of  the  United  States,  or  organizations  of  those  who  stood 
by  the  government,  that  any  attempt  of  that  kind  would  be  speedily 
and  effectually  stamped  out.  It  was  also  important  that  this  should 
be  done  without  making  any  undue  display,  as  would  have  been  the 
case  had  the  Home  Guards  or  Gray  Reserves  been  called  out;  but  the 
object  was  to  be  ready,  and  to  get  ready  quietly.  At  this  time  you 
were  commanding  the  provost  guard,  quartered  at  Fifth  and  Button- 
wood  streets,  a  force  entirely  too  small  for  the  business  in  hand. 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  105 

There  were,  however,  guards  maintained  lor  police  purposes  at  each 
of  the  large  hospitals  in  and  about  Philadelphia.  I  believe  it  was 
your  suggestion  that  these  guards  should  be  mobilized,  and  that  a 
force  of  sufficient  strength  for  our  purpose  could  be  thus  obtained. 

To  you  was  entrusted  the  organization  of  this  force,  and  of  it  you 
formed  two  battalions,  with  the  proper  compliment  of  officers,  armed 
them  and  supplied  them  with  ammunition,  and  formed  a  coherent  and 
effective  command  of  them  within  twenty-four  hours.  From  this 
command  detachments  were  made  to  points  likely  to  be  attacked 
by  the  mob,  viz.,  the  United  States  Mint,  the  Schuylkill  Arsenal,  the 
Union  League  House  and  the  Young  Republican  rooms,  both  on 
Chestnut  street,  and  the  balance  held  in  reserve  at  headquarters  on 
Girard  street.  By  these  dispositions  the  problem  was  solved,  the 
peace  was  preserved,  the  freedom  of  speech  in  the  seat  of  its  birth 
was  not  interfered  with,  and  at  the  same  time,  I  believe,  a  disgraceful 
riot  was  prevented,  and  the  national  cause  saved  from  a  possible 
disaster. 

And  when  a  little  later  there  arrived  the  more  critical  time  for 
the  enforcement  of  the  draft,  when  the  Mayor  of  the  city  and  other 
prominent  citizens  advised,  nay  implored,  that  I  should  disobey  my 
orders  and  fail  to  enforce  the  draft  at  the  appointed  time,  saying  that 
should  I  attempt  it  the  city's  streets  would  run  with  blood  and  their 
houses  go  up  in  smoke  and  flame.  I  remember  that  with  every  confi 
dence  in  the  adequacy  of  our  preparations  we  met  the  issue  with 
perfect  calmness.  I  had  asked  for  and  received  such  number  of  troops 
as  I  thought  necessary,  and  with  these  troops  posted  within  convenient 
distances  of  the  draft  rendezvous,  the  draft  was  enforced  and  the 
law  vindicated  without  disturbance. 

As  I  look  back  upon  those  days  I  feel  an  honest  pride  that  with 
the  efficient  aid  of  such  officers  as  yourself  and  by  making  proper  and 
adequate  preparation  I  was  enabled  to  maintain  peace  in  the  great 
city  of  Philadelphia,  threatened,  as  it  was,  by  an  ugly  mob,  while  in 
New  York  city  at  the  same  time  and  under  precisely  similar  circum 
stances,  for  the  lack  of  those  adequate  preparations,  a  mob  dominated 
the  city  for  several  days,  and  disgraceful  rioting,  bloodshed  and  loss 
of  life  characterized  their  attempt  to  enforce  the  draft.  We  did  it  so 
quietly  that  the  country  does  not  know  that  we  had  a  draft  on  Phila 
delphia,  while  it  will  never  forget,  more  especially  New  York  itself, 
that  they  did  have  one  there,  and  are  very  sorry  for  it.  Hoping  that 
you  are  well  and  that  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  soon,  I 
am  very  truly  yours,  WILLIAM  D.  WHIPPLB, 

Brevet  Major  General  U.  S.  Army. 


16«  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

Mustered  out  of  service  in  November,  1865,  he  returned  to  his 
avocation  as  an  actor,  and  for  several  years  was  a  leading  member 
of  the  Broadway  Theater,  New  York  Stock  Company,  where  in  1869 
he  appeared  successfully  as  Shakespeare's  Sir  John  Falstaff  in  King 
Henry  the  Fourth,  in  which  character  he  began  his  career  as  a  star, 
and  has  played  it  in  almost  every  English  speaking  community 
throughout  the  world,  which  he  visited  with  Annie  Firrnin  (Mrs. 
Jack),  she  appearing  most  successfully  as  the  mad  cap  Prince  of  Wales. 

Recently  he  has  been  for  several  seasons  with  the  genial  comedian, 
Mr.  Joseph  Jefferson,  and  for  three  seasons  has  been  the  "Sir  John" 
in  Mrs.  Fiske's  admirable  presentation  of  Hardy's  great  play  of  "Tess 
of  the  Durbevilles." 


ANNIE  FIRMIN  JACK. 

Annie  Firmin  Jack  was  born  in  London,  England,  but  came  a 
child  with  her  family  to  New  York,  where  she  was  reared.  Her 
paternal  grandmother  was  a  Miss  Spurgeon,  sister  of  the  father  of 
Mr.  Charles  Spurgeon,  the  celebrated  Baptist  minister,  of  London. 
Her  father,  John  Firmin,  previous  to  visiting  America,  had  the  Firmin 
Radical  Academy,  Black  Friar's  Road,  London,  where  he  invented 
and  practiced  the  system  of  object  grammar  teaching  now  taught  in 
the  schools  throughout  Great  Britain.  After  her  son  was  born  in 
Paris,  France,  while  she  was  visiting  London,  her  father's  third  as 
sistant  in  his  Academy  was  receiving  regal  honors  for  the  system 
which  her  father  had  created.  Possessing  a  soprano  voice  of  rare 
excellence,  she  was  studying  for  the  lyric  stage,  but  a  disaster  oc 
curring  to  her  father's  business,  and  an  opportunity  offering,  she 
accompanied  Mr.  Charles  Wheatleigh  to  California,  where  she  made 
her  appearance  in  San  Francisco  as  Kitty  Riedout  in  the  "Flying 
Scud."  After  a  season's  experience  she  returned  to  New  York  and 
became  a  member  of  John  Brougham's  Company  at  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Theater,  after  which  she  joined  forces  with  Mrs.  John  Drew  in 
Philadelphia.  A  year's  experience  at  Wood's  Museum  (now  Daly's), 
in  New  York— and  she  became  the  partner  of  John  Jack  and  shared 
the  attraction  with  him  in  starring  adventures— during  which  she 
created  the  part  of  Mercy  Merrick,  in  the  New  Magdalen,  and  in 
kindred  parts  won  much  distinction  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  Of 
late  years  she  has  been  living  in  retirement  in  New  York  City,  occu 
pying  her  leisure  studying  the  leading  roles  in  Italian  Grand  Opera. 
Negotiations  are  now  pending  for  her  appearance  therein. 


ANNIE  FIKMIN  JACK. 
The  Mother. 


167 


BIOGRAPHICAL.  169 

WALTER  JACK  DUNCAN, 

Whose  pen  and  ink  sketches  illustrate  the  story  of  Chet  on  the  Ex 
pounder,  is  a  grandson  of  Mr.  John  Jack,  and  nephew  to  the  author.  As 
a  lad  of  seventeen  his  work  evinces  more  than  ordinary  talent,  an  ability 
that  will  most  likely  expand.  He  was  born  in  Indianapolis,  Indiana, 
January  1st,  1881,  is  now  a  student  in  the  Training  School  of  that 
city.  With  industry  he  bids  fair  to  rank  among  the  rising  artists  of 
the  Hoosier  State. 


HISTORICAL. 


171 


HISTORICAL. 


NEWSPAPER  CLIPPINGS. 

Around  the  World— Wandering's  of  an  Actor  and  Actress  in  Three 

Continents— Five  Years'  Absence  from  New  York— One  of 

the  Longest  Starring  Trips  on  Record— In  India, 

China  and  Africa. 

[New  York  Telegram,  October  30, 1880.] 

Mr.  John  Jack  and  Annie  Pirmin,  the  well  known  dramatic  artists, 
who  have  just  returned  from  a  professional  trip  around  the  world, 
gave  an  interesting  account  of  their  wanderings  in  the  Orient.  They 
left  New  York  in  April,  1875,  to  fulfill  engagements  in  San  Francisco. 
During  the  following  three  years  they  played  through  the  Territories 
and  in  the  Pacific  States,  and  in  February,  1878,  they  sailed  from 
San  Francisco  for  the  Sandwich  Islands.  Landing  in  Honolulu  they 
appeared  in  many  important  roles,  King  Kalakaua,  the  royal  family 
and  the  American  and  foreign  residents  attending  their  performances, 
which  continued  for  one  month.  Miss  Firmin  achieved  a  brilliant 
success  here  in  learning  in  the  space  of  five  days  an  original  Hawaiian 
song,  set  to  a  native  air,  which  she  sang  to  the  great  delight  of  the 
royal  family  and  the  natives.  Every  night  on  which  she  sang  this  song 
several  thousand  natives  would  crowd  around  the  beautifully  pic 
turesque  theater,  unable  to  gain  admission,  owing  to  the  crowd  inside, 
and  join  in  the  chorus.  The  effect  was  most  charming.  A  month  of 
play  alternated  with  the  enjoyment  of  the  varied  sights  of  this  beau 
tiful  island. 

IN  THE  SOUTHERN  SEAS. 

They  continued  on  their  course,  leaving  the  fixed  star  of  our  north 
ern  firmament  behind,  advanced  across  the  equatorial  line  to  take  up 
the  great  antipodean  constellation  of  the  Southern  Cross.  Passing 
through  the  Fijian  and  within  sight  of  the  Samoan  Islands,  a  fort 
night  brought  them  to  the  shores  of  New  Zealand.  Commencing  at 
Auckland,  they  played  a  two  months'  engagement,  meeting  with  re 
newed  success  and  enjoying  the  novelty  of  an  entertainment  by  the  son 
and  granddaughter  of  King  Shortland,  the  great  Mauri  chief  at  Gra- 
hamstown,  on  the  Thames,  where  they  ate  shark  and  sweet  potatoes 

173 


174  HISTORICAL. 

with  the  native  New  Zealanders  and  inspected  the  new  native  parlia 
ment  house,  built  of  hewn  and  split  logs,  carved  and  painted  by  and 
from  designs  prepared  by  the  natives  themselves. 

In  July  they  entered  the  beautiful  and  extensive  harbor  of  Sydney, 
New  South  Wales,  and  landing  at  the  town  of  the  same  name  soon 
had  the  honor  of  appearing  for  a  brief  period  in  the  initial  city  of  the 
great  continent  island  of  Australia.  Thence  they  journeyed  to  the 
chief  city  of  the  antipodes,  Melbourne,  the  American  city,  so-called  on 
account  of  the  enterprise  instilled  into  the  Anglo-Australian  by  the 
Americans  who  rushed  there  from  our  Pacific  coast  on  the  discovery  of 
gold.  Next  in  order  they  visited  Adelaide,  the  thriving  metropolis  of 
South  Australia.  Here  were  to  be  seen  results  of  the  Centennial  Ex 
position.  American  manufacturers  and  American  ideas  were  very 
popular.  Here  street  railways  were  in  operation  and  American  built 
street  cars  were  running  on  the  lines.  Three  months  of  prosperity 
rewarded  this  visit,  when  our  artists  returned  to  Melbourne  and  took 
steamer  for  India.  They  first  landed  at  Point  du  Galle  on  the  island 
of  Ceylon.  In  Southern  India  legend  ascribes  this  beautiful  spot  as 
the  refuge  of  our  first  parents  when  driven  from  the  Garden  of  Eden. 

IN  INDIA. 

Five  days  brought  them  to  Bombay,  the  capital  of  the  presidency 
of  that  name,  a  city  of  500,000  inhabitants,  and  the  second  British  city 
of  importance  in  India,  the  bay  of  which  is  second  only  to  Sydney 
harbor,  the  two  with  the  harbor  of  Rio  Janiero  being  the  three  finest 
in  the  world.  The  wanderers  then  visited  Calcutta,  by  rail  1,400  miles 
across  the  peninsula  of  India,  and  then  proceeded  north  as  far  as 
Delhi,  visiting  all  the  important  points  along  the  road,  including  Bar- 
rackpore,  Dinapore,  Benares,  Allahabad,  Cawnpore,  Lucknow,  Agra, 
and  Delhi,  inspecting  the  relics  of  the  great  Indian  mutiny,  the  palaces 
at  Lucknow,  the  tombs  of  the  wife  of  the  great  Shah  Jehan,  known  as 
the  Taj,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world,  together  with  the  fort  at 
Agra,  containing  the  pearl  mosque,  the  looking-glass  baths,  and  the 
Hall  of  Audience  of  the  Great  Emperor,  Akbar  Khan,  the  wonderful 
tombs  of  this  ruler,  together  with  the  tombs  of  the  kings  at  Delhi,  and 
the  Kootub  towers  at  the  latter  place.  These  sights  well  recompensed 
the  artist  tourists  for  their  journey,  while  the  success  attending  their 
performances  made  their  wanderings  still  more  agreeable.  Retracing 
their  steps,  they  returned  to  Calcutta,  and  thence  to  Bombay,  where 
new  triumphs  awaited  them.  At  the  former  place  they  visited  the 
traditional  sites  of  the  black  hole  of  Calcutta,  the  gardens  of  the 
King  of  Oude,  where  they  saw,  among  other  wonders,  the  extraordiu- 


HISTORICAL.  175 

ary  adjutant  bird  and  the  French  dancing  master.  The  former  a 
species  of  the  ostrich,  named  from  his  military  strut,  and  the  latter, 
towering  like  an  immense  stork,  gambols  most  grotesquely.  They 
also  visited  the  king's  snakery,  containing  over  5,000  venomous  rep 
tiles.  The  Seven  Tanks,  being  seven  dams  or  reservoirs  of  water  on 
the  grounds  of  the  Indian  Prince,  are  interesting  for  the  drive  thereto, 
and  the  famous  carp  they  contain  of  enormous  growth,  similar  to 
these  at  Foutainbleau,  in  France,  which  come  to  the  shore  and  feed 
from  the  visitors'  hands.  At  Bombay  they  visited  the  caves  of  ele 
phants  and  inspected  the  wonderful  Buddhist  relics.  These  caves  are 
hewn  in  the  solid  rock,  portions  being  left  standing  as  columns  to 
support  the  roof,  all  the  interior  being  richly  carved  in  bas  relief,  repre 
senting  emblematic  scenes  from  their  mythology.  The  main  hall  is 
about  sixty  feet  square  and  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  from  floor  to 
ceiling. 

SCENES  IN   MADRAS. 

« 

Leaving  Bombay,  the  tourists  visited  Poona,  Hyderabad  and  Se- 
cunderbad,  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Brahmins  and  the  Nabobs,  and 
went  to  Madras,  also  visiting  Ootacamund  and  Bangalore,  the  moun 
tain  resort  of  the  presidency  (presidency  is  equivalent  for  what  we 
term  a  state  or  territory).  At  Madras  it  was  novel  to  observe  the 
fishermen  on  three  pieces  of  timber  (about  eighteen  or  twenty  feet 
long)  lashed  together,  forming  a  catamaran,  going  a  mile  or  two  from 
shore  to  follow  their  vocation.  Their  return  through  the  surf  was 
most  exciting,  though  perhaps  not  so  dangerous  as  it  appeared.  Their 
fish  baskets  and  tackle  were  lashed  to  their  primitive  boats,  which 
they  paddled  with  pieces  of  board  six  feet  long  and  as  many  inches 
wide.  Their  attire  consisted  of  a  small  piece  of  cotton  cloth  about 
their  loins  and  a  conical  shaped  hat  made  of  cocoanut  fiber,  fitting 
tightly  on  the  head,  and  which  is  said  to  be  waterproof.  At  all  events 
they  will  carry  notes  and  letters  to  outward  bound  vessels,  going 
through  the  most  violent  seas  with  their  messages  under  their  hats. 

BURMESE    PAGODAS. 

Crossing  the  sea  of  Bengal  the  wanderers  next  entered  British 
Burmah,  and  at  Maulmain  and  Rangoon  they  saw  the  wonderful  pago 
das,  octagonal  in  shape  at  the  base,  which  rise  in  successive  tiers, 
each  diminishing  in  size  one  above  the  other.  After  about  three  tiers, 
they  assume  shapes  not  unlike  a  carrot,  the  thick  part  uppermost, 
and  the  whole  surmounted  by  a  sort  of  umbrella,  resembling  an  in- 


176  HISTORICAL. 

verted  tambourine.  This  has  attached  to  it  a  quantity  of  bells,  which, 
being  shaken  by  the  wind,  fills  the  air  with  tintinnabulations.  This 
umbrella  is  fretted  with  most  rare  jewels  and  precious  stones,  the 
principal  one  at  Rangoon  costing  millions  of  dollars  to  embellish.  The 
structure  is  of  brick  and  cement,  the  whole  gilded  with  gold.  The 
base  of  the  pagoda  is  surrounded  with  altars,  containing  heathen  gods, 
some  with  pure  gold  heads,  others  all  gilded,  at  which  the  Buddhist 
pays  his  devotion,  which  consist  in  counting  beads,  prostrations,  the 
burning  of  tapers  and  the  utterance  of  formulas,  similar  in  many  re 
spects  to  the  forms  observed  in  Catholic  places  of  worship.  Bells  are 
always  stationed  at  these  places  of  prayer,  some  of  very  huge  dimen 
sions,  which  they  strike  upon  leaving  their  devotions,  that  the  sound 
may  accompany  their  offering  to  the  throne  on  high. 

IN  AFRICA. 

Leaving  Rangoon  they  coasted  down  the  Indus-Chinese  Peninsula, 
passing  through  the  straits  of  Malacca,  stopping  at  Penang,  Malacca 
and  Singapore,  then  up  through  the  China  Seas  to  Hong  Kong,  Can 
ton,  Amoy  and  Shanghai,  playing  successfully  at  each  place.  Return 
ing  to  Bombay,  they  crossed  the  Arabian  Sea  and  entered  the  Gulf  of 
Aden,  and  thence  into  the  historic  Red  Sea.  Entering  the  mouth  of 
the  canal  they  landed  at  Suez  and  pressed  the  soil  of  ancient  Egypt. 
Passing  along  the  skirts  of  the  great  desert  they  beheld  the  strange 
mirage  which  has  so  frequently  been  the  fearful  delusion  of  the  trav 
eler,  visited  grand  Cairo,  Heliopolis,  the  famous  mosques,  the  citadel, 
standing  upon  the  spot  from  whence  sprang  the  last  of  the  Mame 
lukes;  sailed  upon  the  waters  of  the  fertilizing  Nile,  gazed  upon  the 
traditional  resting  place  that  once  sheltered  Moses,  and  ascended  the 
Pyramids  and  stood  upon  the  ear  of  the  awe-inspiring  Sphynx,  looking 
down  into  the  recovered  tombs  of  this  ancient  Necropolis.  Proceeding 
still  westward,  they  entered  the  famous  Delta  of  the  Nile,  and  reach 
ing  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  at  last  found  themselves 
in  the  grand  old  city  of  Alexandria.  Leaving  Africa  the  tourists 
visited  Greece  and  Italy,  and  then  returned  to  this  country  via  France 
and  England.  Their  son,  Arthur  Firmin  Jack,  was  born  in  Paris, 
France,  Tuesday,  March  30,  1880. 

"The  recent  exploit  of  our  magnificent  navy,"  says  John  Jack, 
-"recalls  an  episode  of  my  'starring  tour  around  the  world.'  While 
playing  at  Shanghai  in  November  of  '79,  I  found  our  American  Chinese 
fleet  to  be  the  largest  that  the  United  States  had  ever  sent  to  those 
-waters.  Our  navy  had  not  reached  the  grand  development  that  later 
years  has  given  it.  While  it  was  large,  it  had  no  up-to-date  warships 


HISTORICAL.  177 

or  cruisers.  Rear  Admiral  Patterson  commanded,  with  the  S.  S.  Rich 
mond  as  his  flagship.  Visiting  a  German  warship  by  the  courtesy  of  its 
officers,  I  was  nettled  at  the  comparisons,  courteous,  but,  as  I  thought, 
somewhat  sarcastic,  made  at  the  expense  of  our  antique  fleet.  As  I 
returned  to  the  shore  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  following  Thursday 
would  be  our  National  Thanksgiving  holiday.  What  a  splendid  oppor 
tunity  it  would  be,  without  exciting  unfavorable  comment,  to  have  a 
display  of  our  marine  and  naval  forces  on  shore.  I  called  on  our 
Consul  General,  David  H.  Bailey,  an  agreeable  gentleman  and  a  spirited 
American.  I  knew  he  was  on  excellent  terms  with  the  Admiral,  who 
was  to  lunch  with  him  that  day.  So  I  asked  if  he  could  not  get  him 
to  consider  the  suggestion.  He  did  so.  The  Admiral  enthused  at  the 
proposition,  issued  orders  for  details  from  the  fleet,  and  on  Thursday, 
November  27,  1879,  the  detachments  were  formed  into  six  companies 
of  marines,  four  of  sailors,  two  armed  with  muskets  and  two  with 
side  arms  only— making  a  splendid  battalion  of  ten  companies,  and 
four  howitzers  drawn  with  ropes  by  the  blue  jackets.  With  "Old 
Glory"  in  their  midst  and  preceded  by  the  excellent  band  of  the  Rich 
mond,  they  paraded  the  streets  of  Shanghai,  proceeded  to  the  race 
grounds,  where  dress  parade  was  formed  and  several  battalion  move 
ments  executed.  After  several  salvos  from  the  guns  of  the  battery, 
the  line  of  march  was  taken  up  to  the  starting  point,  where  they  were 
dismissed  and  returned  to  their  respective  ships.  This  is  recorded  as 
the  first  apearance  of  American  troops,  in  regular  formation,  on  the  soil 
of  the  Orient.  The  physique  of  our  men,  the  excellent  discipline  dis 
played  and  the  precision  of  their  evolutions  excited  the  pride  of  the 
American  colony,  and  won  the  admiration  of  the  different  nationalities 
represented  in  the  treaty  port.  Admiral  Patterson  subsequently  con 
gratulated  and  thanked  me  for  my  timely  suggestion,  which,  he  said, 
might  not  otherwise  have  occurred  to  him.  To  those,  living,  who  par 
ticipated  in  the  ceremony,  and  those  who  witnessed  it,  the  event  of 
Dewey,  on  May  1,  1898,  in  Manila  Harbor,  must  have  recalled  the 
pleasant  recollections  of  that  Thanksgiving  day  in  1879  at  Shanghai  as 
a  fitting  prelude  to  the  glorious  achivements  of  an  up-to-date  American 
fleet,  startling  the  world  with  its  effectiveness,  and  marking  the  evolu 
tion  of  our  institutions  and  the  forward  march  of  our  great  Republic." 
—Commercial  Tribune,  Cincinnati,  Ohio. 


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